


The Kenobi Affair

by MrsHamill



Series: Movie-style mysteries [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip back to Navist is in the cards for the Jedi's best master-apprentice pair, not that either wants it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kenobi Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Rita, for asking for a sequel (well, okay, for pointing out that there were untied threads in the original [g]) to Jinn Identity and for the title; I figured two movie-derivative titles, neither of which had anything to do with the story they titled, was fitting. Thank you, Birdie, for Gobenflotch. Thank you Claude and Camille and Catnip for beta work above and beyond the call -- I love my betas and would buy them a herd of slaveboys if I knew where to find them. If there is anything good and readable in here, it's because of them, trust me. All the mistakes are mine, though.

**Chapter One**

Obi-Wan Kenobi watched as Coruscant flashed by the windows of the crowded transport. He allowed himself one brief moment of frustrated anger before releasing it to the Force -- it had been yet another long, tedious meeting with Chancellor Palpatine and his staff, with no end in sight. He didn't care for Palpatine, and he wasn't certain why. The man seemed... oily. He felt like a skin of grease on a puddle of dirty water. Then again, he _was_ a politician, someone not to be thoroughly trusted, though he was the best man to work with in order to figure out the problems with the Trade Federation and why a Sith -- a Sith! -- had tried to kill Obi-Wan on Naboo. Tried to kill both of them, actually, and nearly succeeded in one case.

Luckily his stop loomed up and Obi-Wan could allow his mind to skitter off that topic. He pulled the hood of his robe up over his head and tried for a dignified walk instead of a foot-dragging slouch, but it was a near thing.

As usual, there was a group of young men and women clustered around the large cafe that was on the edge of the Temple's grounds. Some were boisterous and friendly, but others were clearly working the area and Obi-Wan shook his head. Time to try to clean it up again, though why the Council felt it was necessary...

One young man stood apart from the others, a lit smoke dangling from his lips, one leg cocked up on the wall on which he leaned. Obi-Wan felt a shock of recognition when the man glanced at him, and paused in his steps. It couldn't be. Could it?

"Udo?" 

The man did a credible double-take and Obi-Wan pushed his hood back. "Ben-boy? That you?"

"Udo! What in the name of..."

"You be looking good, Ben-boy!" Crenudo dropped the smoke and stepped on it, then embraced Obi-Wan. He looked terrible -- dark circles ringed his eyes and his skin was pasty.

"I don't believe this, Udo... why didn't you send word you were coming? How long have you been here?"

"I be just get here, Ben-boy. No huhu. But you said... you said I be come to you if I..." He trailed off, and Obi-Wan felt both his worry and his exhaustion.

"If you need, I'm here," Obi-Wan said firmly. "Where are you staying? Let's go get your things, and I'll get you a place to sleep in the Temple."

"Oh, that..."

"No, Udo," Obi-Wan interrupted him gently. "You helped me on Navist, now let me help you. Where are you staying?"

Crenudo looked like he wanted to argue, but then his shoulders slumped. "Yah. Up top here. This honker, he be over-charge me." With his head, he motioned back to the cafe, and Obi-Wan remembered there were rooms there for rent by the month, week, day and hour. It couldn't be safe or clean, and firmed his resolve to move Crenudo to the Temple. 

"Come on." It was the work of a few moments to get to Crenudo's room and gather his things. The being on desk duty tried to give them a hard time about a refund -- obviously thinking he could shill a hick off-worlder who barely understood Basic -- but a bit of Jedi weight thrown around seemed to bring him to his senses. 

Crenudo was obviously awed by the Temple, though he wouldn't say so. He stuck close by Obi-Wan until they reached his quarters, an inner apartment as befit a junior knight. At least he had a comfortable sofa and extra linens, Obi-Wan thought to himself, wondering if he had any food in his kitchenette.

"Home sweet home," Obi-Wan announced, hanging his robe on the hook by the door. "It's not much, and I'm not sure if I even have any edible food in the kitchen, but we can always go to the commissary."

Crenudo tossed his pack on the sofa and looked around with a frown. "Nice flop. But where..."

Having a feeling he knew what Crenudo was going to ask, Obi-Wan hurried into the kitchen. "Let me see what I've got and we'll decide if we need to go out. I don't have any caf, but I've got cha."

Turning from examining his nearly-bare pantry, Obi-Wan nearly slammed into Crenudo. "Where be Jinn, Ben?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "He... he has his own apartment. Other side of the temple. I think we're going to need to go out. The commissary isn't bad, or we can leave the Temple?"

Obi-Wan's eyes slid away from Crenudo's penetrating stare. He'd forgotten just how insightful his friend could be. The coarseness wasn't an act, but it served to hide a rather intelligent mind. "Yah, we be go there." Crenudo was still frowning, but seemed willing to let Obi-Wan off the hook for the moment. "I be needing a brown robe to stay here?"

Obi-Wan smiled crookedly. "No. You're with me. Don't worry about it."

It was late for lastmeal, which was good since there were plenty of places to sit. Obi-Wan pointed out a few delicacies that Crenudo might enjoy, then they both sat at a table in the corner. Crenudo began to shovel food in his mouth, his wide eyes staring around the room.

With a mental slap to himself, Obi-Wan realized just how strange the Temple commissary would look to someone who was unused to being around non-humans. With a wry smile, he caught Crenudo's eye. "I forgot, you're not used to this, are you?"

"It... be different..." Crenudo admitted. He looked over Obi-Wan's shoulder, pointing with his chin. "That one..."

Obi-Wan glanced over and saw two councilors eating together, wrapped up in discussion. "Oh, yes. He's one of our council members; they lead the Jedi. His species is called Iktotchi."

Crenudo appeared to be impressed. "He look kinda fierce."

"I suppose he does at that," Obi-Wan felt his grin widen. "Though, to tell you the truth... the one he's with? The big bald man?"

"Yeah?"

"He's much fiercer."

"I be remembering that," Crenudo breathed.

Crenudo ate fast, for all he was wrapped up in looking around, and Obi-Wan had to wonder how long it had been since his last meal. Telling Crenudo that he wasn't as hungry as he thought, he offered some of his vegetables and wasn't surprised when they disappeared just as rapidly. When his friend finally slowed down, Obi-Wan said, "Tell me what's going on, Udo. Is there trouble?"

"Yah, that be one thing to say," Crenudo said with a sigh. "That Mogrit. He done got elected to the Talky-talk and now, he want to run things." Slumping in his seat, Crenudo looked like he wanted to search for a smoke but changed his mind. "Them tips, they be ever-where. They don't let a body be a body, they want they noses in all over, you bag?"

Obi-Wan winced. "That bad?"

"Oh, it be worse," Crenudo said bitterly. "I be all legal like, I be getting my pro license. But Mogrit, that itty pecker he want to revoke 'em all." One of Crenudo's fingers worried a small chip in the table, and he wouldn't look at Obi-Wan. "Them honkers, they be not letting people off-planet now. They be like, get card, show card. Ever-thing we be doing they wanta know."

"Force." Obi-Wan stared at Crenudo. "How did you get here, then? Do you have passage back?"

"I got me friend in high place, Ben-boy," Crenudo said, ignoring Obi-Wan's second question. "We be getting a... a... resistance. Yah. That's what Little Bit be calling it."

"A resistance? You mean, an underground movement against the government?"

"Yah. Little Bit, she be helping us, she be getting lots o' stuff." Crenudo bit his lip and looked both sad and angry. "But now, she be gone. We be not finding her. I got off just after she be gone. I don't like to be ask for help, but now Little Bit be gone, we be need it, Ben-boy. We be need it bad. I be worried about Little Bit."

Obi-Wan shook his head. He doubted that the Council would authorize a mission to Navist -- it wasn't a member of the Republic and the last mission there hadn't ended well. But Crenudo was a friend. "I'll help you," he said, with an assurance he wished he felt. "We'll figure out something." He hoped.

"Oddly dressed for a Jedi, your friend is." 

Obi-Wan looked up in surprise. Yoda was standing next to their table, looking at Crenudo with as much interest as was in Crenudo's stare. "Master Yoda, I'm sorry, I didn't see you. This is a friend, Crenudo, from Navist. He's come to ask for our help."

Yoda and Crenudo stared at each other for a moment, before Obi-Wan realized Crenudo poor command of Basic meant he probably had no clue what Obi-Wan had said. "I'm sorry, Udo. This is Master Yoda, who is also on the Council." Switching to Basic, he turned back to Yoda. "My apologies, Master..."

"No need," Yoda replied in flawless Navista. "To the Jedi Temple, I welcome you, Sar Crenudo." Crenudo's eyes nearly popped from their sockets. "Come to the Council you will, Obi-Wan. Tomorrow. Message I will send you. Your friend you will bring."

"Master?" Obi-Wan blinked.

"Situation we have. Talk about it tomorrow, we will." Nodding to them both, Yoda hobbled out of the room.

"That be one green honker," Crenudo breathed, and Obi-Wan was hard-pressed to maintain a straight face.

"Come on, Udo. We need to find you a place to sleep."

Rising with Obi-Wan, Crenudo shook his head. "I be fine, Ben, I be doss on you sofa. If that be checkit."

Obi-Wan relented almost immediately. Crenudo had to be feeling much like a fish out of water, and being as proud and stubborn as he was, it was the least Obi-Wan could do. His sofa wasn't all that bad, anyway.

Not, of course, that they actually slept. They stayed up far into the night, and Crenudo told him all about Navist and what had been happening. 'Little Bit' was a netfriend, someone he had not physically met but who apparently had a lot of pull somehow. The resistance, as this 'Little Bit' called it, was mainly disgruntled Navistim who were sick of the telepaths and Mogrit, and who wanted things back the way they were. A point that Obi-Wan expected -- something he had seen many times before -- both Mogrit's government and the resistance blamed off-worlders for all the troubles. 

It seemed things hadn't changed that much on Navist.

The summons to appear before the Council came that evening, with an early morning appointment. Crenudo hadn't brought a lot of clothing with him, and since they were of a height, Obi-Wan lent him some civilian clothing -- clothing far more decorous than anything else Crenudo owned. 

They were immediately shown in to the Council chamber the next morning by a padawan-page. There were already two others in the room, and Obi-Wan froze at the sight of one of them.

Crenudo had no reservations about greeting him, however. "Jinn! It be good seeing you." 

Qui-Gon took Crenudo's fingers and studiously ignored Obi-Wan's presence. "Master Yoda said you were here, Crenudo. It's nice to see you again." Qui-Gon's Navista was rusty and Obi-Wan took perverse pleasure it that.

The other person in the room turned to look at Crenudo disapprovingly. He was a short, portly man with thinning hair and black eyes, a man Obi-Wan had never met in person, but knew from video conferences. Qui-Gon introduced them. "Crenudo, this is Emmit Hale, the industrialist. Sar Hale, Sar Crenudo is a native of Navist. I believe you already know Knight Kenobi." Hale did not extend his hand to either man, but merely nodded frostily.

"Sar Hale has petitioned the Jedi for help," Master Windu began. Obi-Wan stood at the far side of the room, as far away from Qui-Gon as he could. "His daughter has been kidnapped."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped and he could not keep an exclamation inside. "What?! How? Where was Allanz?"

"Ser Fortier is in a coma and therefore cannot inform us how she came to let me down." Hale's voice was as stiff as his posture, and his teeth were clenched. Obi-Wan frowned. "The doctors do not think she'll survive, which is unfortunate. I'd like the honor of killing her myself."

"What happened? I can't imagine Allanz allowing Betha to be taken, and your manor on Navist is--"

"Betha?!" It was Crenudo's incredulous voice that interrupted Obi-Wan. He turned to Hale, his gaze snapping with fury. " _You_ be Little Bit's daddy?"

With that exclamation, things became very confusing. Hale and Crenudo nearly came to blows over Crenudo's explanation of his friend and what they'd been doing, and the Council ended up calling security. Obi-Wan surprised himself by not being all that surprised that Betha had been the instigator of the resistance movement -- she'd always been a little trouble-maker and her own frailties made her a sucker for the underdog. He felt both proud and more worried than ever.

After the situation quieted, Mace Windu began to explain, recapping for everyone's benefit. "The situation on Navist has deteriorated precipitously since our undercover mission there, three years ago. We have been unable to determine who it was that identified Master Jinn and spoiled that mission, placing both he and his then-padawan in mortal peril. Though it does appear that Navist is on the verge of civil war, there is very little the Jedi can do about that, since Navist is not a Republic world."

Obi-Wan had been translating for Crenudo's benefit, and now Crenudo's anger turned from Hale to the Council. "You be saying you won't help," he said, his face stony. "Ben-boy here and Jinn too, they both be saying you help if we need. Well, we need. Where you be?"

"Ben?" Councilor Gallia turned a puzzled glance at Obi-Wan, who was translating for the Council.

"That was my undercover name on Navist, three years ago," Obi-Wan explained. "That's how Crenudo knows me."

"Ben not you name?" Crenudo said softly, having picked up the exchange with his limited Basic. 

"No, it's really Obi-Wan."

Crenudo gave him an incredulous look. "I be sticking with Ben, Ben-boy."

"We did not say that we would not help," Mace Windu told Crenudo in Navista, forestalling anything Obi-Wan could say. "But our help would be necessarily circumscribed by the rules of the Republic. We are, after all, a branch of the Republic. Yes, we are an autonomous branch, for the most part, but we must obey the rules."

"I fail to see how this relates to my request." Emmit Hale purely radiated fury. After his short exchange of insults with Crenudo, he ignored the pro completely. "I couldn't care less what happens to the Navistim, I want my daughter back. And I _am_ a citizen of the Republic. I have already said I will pay, just as I've paid for the Jedi in the past."

"Yeah, you be thinking luta solve ever-thing, you rockhead," Crenudo muttered darkly. Obi-Wan was glad he had put himself between Crenudo and Hale.

"Payment is not the issue, Sar Hale." Windu could easily be far icier than Hale. "The issue is how much we will be able to do in a society that is as insular as the Navistim's is. Our own non-interference policy precludes direct contact with worlds such as Navist --"

"Nuke them all, if you want to, I don't care." At Hale's harsh words, Obi-Wan joined Crenudo in glaring at the man. "Just get me my daughter back."

"Have there been any demands for ransom?" Obi-Wan was taken aback. Hale had always seemed such a quiet man over the vid -- this version of the man was entirely different.

"Had there been, I would not be here, and I would have my daughter back," Hale snarled.

"The issue is not as clear-cut as you seem to think it is." Windu leaned forward and pinned Hale with his gaze. "According to Sar Crenudo, your daughter has been a prime instigator against Mogrit and the telepaths. Her disappearance is all but certainly linked to that activity."

"He's lying. Betha would never do such a thing."

"I think you're living in a dream world if you believe that, Sar Hale." Speaking for the first time since the introductions, Qui-Gon's voice was level and devoid of inflection. Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. "Nothing Crenudo has said surprised me in the least. Betha considers herself to be Navistim, and I'm quite certain that she would want to help wherever she felt she could."

"You barely know my daughter," scoffed Hale. 

"On the contrary. I've kept up regular correspondence with her since our mission to Navist. I would say I know her quite well -- and Knight Kenobi knows her even better than I. I doubt Sar Crenudo's comments surprised him either."

"Ask Branny, if you don't believe us. Either of them would do anything for Navist." Obi-Wan spoke without thinking, finding himself surprised that Qui-Gon had been corresponding with Betha. It was not something she had mentioned to Obi-Wan...

"Leave my other daughter out of this." Hale glared at Obi-Wan. "She doesn't even know what happened, and that's the way I want to keep it."

"We are leaving the point," Windu said before Hale or Obi-Wan could speak further. "From this review, it appears to me that this situation does call for Jedi intervention -- though a private citizen can hardly speak for his world, no matter how much he may wish to. Our only difficulty lies in determining how to help." He glanced around the room, then motioned for security, still standing by. "Please take Sar Crenudo and Sar Hale to _different_ waiting rooms." To the men before him, he added, "Please feel free to order any refreshments you desire. This Council will need private debate before we decide."

Muttering, Hale let himself be led out of the room. Obi-Wan gave Crenudo a smile and a thumbs-up, hoping to give the man courage. Once the room contained only Jedi again, Master Windu continued.

"The situation we're facing is difficult, especially given the sudden reappearance of the Sith. It is possible that the Sith has had a hand in this from the beginning -- in an attempt to discredit the Jedi."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Our former mission -- the telepaths impersonating the Jedi."

"Exactly. There are gaping holes in our knowledge, but Navist continues to appear in foreseeings, both vague and specific. Lightsaber crystal is still disappearing, and all tracks point to Navist. Now, we have a private citizen from Navist asking for our help -- simply appearing out of empty space." He shook his head. "There are no coincidences where the Force is concerned. We must find out what's happening on Navist and why." He looked at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, frowning at the distance between them. "Due to your previous experience on Navist, you two are the best choices to go. Though we'd like to send you separately, together might be better."

"We could use the personality masking, as we did the last time," Councilor Mundi began, but both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan shook their heads. 

"No." Obi-Wan was adamant. "It didn't work well the last time and we have no prep time available to us now."

"Understood." Mundi frowned at them thoughtfully. "We do have an experimental device that may be able to mask your thoughts from all but the strongest of telepaths. This may be a good time for a field test." After a pause, he added, "There is also an experimental drug which has been found to temporarily boost Force acuity. Use of this drug is possibly dangerous, but we will have the healers brief you."

There was silence for a moment. Obi-Wan found himself contemplating the mosaic on the floor, suddenly unsure of his path. When Qui-Gon spoke, he almost started in surprise. "I am open to the possibilities, as long we have a full briefing, and as long as... Knight Kenobi doesn't mind."

Not trusting himself to speak, Obi-Wan merely nodded.

"The reason we wanted to send you separately was to at least hide one of you from the knowledge of the telepaths." Windu leaned back in his chair and frowned at them. "You should know that Navist has closed its borders and is not allowing any non-natives to land. Since Sar Hale has dual citizenship, this should not affect him. Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi, please avail yourself of Sar Hale's ship for your trip to Navist and take Sar Crenudo with you. Do not make your presence known. If Hale offers any protestation, we will provide a transport for the three of you.

"Your mission is to find out who has been outfitting telepaths as Jedi, if such is still continuing, and why it was done. There may well be a tie-in to someone the Republic, and if so, you are tasked with discovering and, if possible, breaking such ties as they conflict with the non-interference laws of the Republic. Sar Crenudo should be of some help to you in this, since he is an important contact with the resistance movement. Please keep in mind the non-interference doctrine when conducting your investigation. Your secondary mission will be to find and return Betha Hale to her father -- or at least to her home." Obi-Wan looked up in surprise, but Windu's face was bland. "Your present assignments are hereby superceded, and we will make arrangements for someone to replace you."

"With all due respect, I'm not sure I'd be at all helpful on this mission." Qui-Gon's voice sounded tentative, though Obi-Wan didn't look up. "Since... Knight Kenobi knows more about Navist than I do, perhaps there should be..."

"Go, you will." Yoda's tone permitted no arguments. "And know you this, Master Qui-Gon. In charge of this mission is Knight Kenobi."

Obi-Wan blinked at Yoda. "What?"

"Senior Jedi is Master Jinn. Pointed out it has been, however, that more knowledge of Navist has Knight Kenobi. Defer to his judgment you will, Master Jinn." 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As if it weren't bad enough that he was thrown into a mission with the man he least wanted to be with, now the damn Council had put him in charge of Qui-Gon. He wanted to protest -- hell, he wanted to go hide! -- but he knew that would be fruitless. He bowed. "In service to the Jedi," he murmured. After a moment, Qui-Gon did the same.

Windu sent a signal to the page who re-entered the room. "Please have our guests return," he told the padawan. 

Obi-Wan remained silent, his hands tucked into his sleeves, studying the floor while they waited. He didn't dare look up for fear that Qui-Gon Jinn, his former master, his former lover, would be watching him. After a few moments, both Hale and Crenudo returned. Crenudo bobbed his head in respect, but Hale did not.

"Sar Hale, the Jedi will accompany you back to Navist and will endeavor to find your daughter." Hale crossed his arms before his chest and glared at Windu. "However, that mission will be in conjunction with another, dealing with the Navistim themselves. You are asked to see to it that Knight Kenobi and Master Jinn have every help possible, and any actual outlay of funds you experience will be repaid by the Jedi."

That obviously didn't set well with Hale, but Windu's next words made him all but explode. "Also accompanying you will be Sar Crenudo, who is to help on the other mission."

"No!" Hale glared at Crenudo as if he were a particularly nasty bug. "I refuse. I will not have this... this... _prostitute_ on board my ship!"

To Obi-Wan's surprise, Crenudo merely laughed, which incensed Hale all the more. "Very well," Windu said calmly. "You are removed from the mission altogether. We will find our own way to Navist, and should we find your daughter, you will be notified."

Speaking through gritted teeth, his face almost as red as his shirt, Hale said, "You can't do that! I have friends in the Senate, influential friends... I'll... I'll have your funding pulled! I'm going to be in charge here, you understand me? You listen to me, you..."

"No, Sar Hale, I'm afraid I will not listen to you." Windu leaned forward and fixed Hale with his gaze. "Your choices have been laid out before you. You can take them or leave them. Since your daughter is of age to be emancipated, there is no onus on the Jedi to return her to you, and, when she is found, if she doesn't wish it, we will not. As well, we are not at the beck and call of every businessman in the galaxy. We are Jedi. We serve the Force first and the Republic second. Your wishes are secondary in this matter."

Hale appeared to be one step away from simply exploding out of anger, and Obi-Wan wondered if he should summon the healers. This man was far different than the one Obi-Wan remembered, through videos and voice links to his daughter, Betha. Finally, Hale calmed himself enough to speak. "Fine. Find your own damn way to that backwater shithole. I'll find my daughter myself." Turning on his heel, he marched out of the room.

There was dead silence in the room for a few moments, until it was broken by a grinning Crenudo. "I be thinking, he not happy."

"I be thinking the same," Obi-Wan replied, trying to hold back his own grin.

"This might be of better use to us," Windu said with a quelling glance to Obi-Wan. "I would rather not leave you to his beck and call, and going to Navist in his ship would do that."

"A ship we will arrange," Yoda said, serene as always. "To the healers you should go, then pack you should."

Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon bowed, and Crenudo did as well, nervously. When the Jedi turned to leave, he started to go with them but was held up. "Sar Crenudo." It was Yoda who spoke and both Obi-Wan and Crenudo stopped in surprise. "A word I would have with you."

"Uh..." Crenudo gave Obi-Wan a panicked look. 

"Caf I have, your favorite I believe. Share it with you I would like." Yoda hopped down from his chair and moved to the door. "Boring work they are doing. More fun we will have."

Obi-Wan smiled at Crenudo. "Go on, Udo. He doesn't bite. Well, not hard, anyway."

Yoda cackled and whapped Obi-Wan's boot with his stick. The last thing Obi-Wan saw as he moved down the corridor was Yoda and Crenudo walking down the hall together, laughing at something. "This may be a bad idea," Obi-Wan murmured to himself.

Then he remembered who he was with and wistfully wished he was with Yoda instead.

* * *

Qui-Gon knew he was being uncharacteristically silent. However, he couldn't think of a thing to say: a diplomat of far too many years' experience and he was tongue-tied around the man he thought he knew better than anyone... the man who had been his padawan, who had been his lover. They hadn't said more than five words to each other in months, almost a year, since they returned from Naboo and Qui-Gon was released from the Healers' for regular duty.

Now they were thrown together again, and Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan was just as reticent to speak as he was. However, the Council gave them this mission, and they would have to find a way to get along. They were both adults -- they would manage. 

The lift car was empty, which was unfortunate. Dredging through his mind for something to say, Qui-Gon picked what he thought was a safe topic. "It was a nice surprise, seeing Crenudo again. When did he arrive?" 

"I met him last night, at that cafe near the Temple grounds. He said he'd just gotten in." Obi-Wan replied perfunctorily, not giving Qui-Gon a scrap of help.

"Ah." The studiously ignored each other until the lift stopped and the door opened. The Healers' was not Qui-Gon's favorite place, especially not lately, but at least this time he was coming under his own power and by choice.

They were met by Master Healer Choam, who was expecting them. They bowed in greeting, and followed the tiny, lovely woman to her office, as she spoke to them. "Let me show you what we've got here." She sat behind her desk and pulled out a small mechanical device and a case. "After your last adventure on Navist, we realized that we were going to have to find a better way to deal with telepaths. One of the things we set out to do was find a way to shield thoughts."

"I wouldn't have believed that was even possible," Qui-Gon murmured, leaning forward.

"It's merely a matter of shielding. The difficulty lies in determining what type of shielding." Healer Choam smiled at them. "Telepaths -- non-Force sensitive, so-called 'mind readers' -- can 'hear' thoughts through a... oh, let's call it a special ear. This ear resides in a hyperextenuated area in the inferior parietal lobule. It's quite clear on certain scans as an area that is far more active in telepaths than in non-telepaths."

She pushed a switch on the side of the box and immediately Qui-Gon winced. "It's the telepathic equivalent of 'white noise,'" she explained. "You're not hearing anything through your ears, but your Force sense is translating it as a loud hum, perhaps, or a low-level buzz."

"It's... quite annoying," Obi-Wan said. 

"You are both very strong in the Force." She switched the box off and smiled at their grateful looks. "To a telepath, this would come across as static, or as masking. There is a vast difference in how the Force helps Jedi, as opposed to a Force-blind telepath."

"Why is that?" Qui-Gon rubbed the bridge of his nose where a headache was beginning to bloom.

"That ear I talked about? Force-sensitives don't seem to have it -- at all. Even if they use the Force for true telepathic communication, which, as you know, is rare indeed. We can often sense the way a person is feeling -- empathy -- or sometimes pick up strong emotions or thoughts. Those with a bond of some type can even sense full thoughts, if shields are lowered and if both parties are cooperative. The difference appears mostly mechanical -- true, constant telepathic sense, as I mentioned, seems to reside primarily in the inferior parietal lobule... and I won't go any further than that as I can see your eyes glazing from here." She smiled and Qui-Gon called up a smile back. "Force-sensitivity resides in the hypothalamus -- or so we believe. We do know that when the pituitary glands are damaged or removed, Force-sensitivity diminishes and, in some cases, disappears."

"Isn't that where the midi-chlorians reside?" Obi-Wan asked. He looked as though he had a headache as well.

"Not reside, where they're manufactured." The healer set the box aside. "We tend to group Midi-chlorians -- incorrectly -- into the hormone family, for all we don't understand how they're made, or made to excess in some people and not in others. Nor do we fully understand why some people can be telepaths but not Force-sensitive. From what we've been able to ascertain, the Navistim have a much higher rate of telepathy per one hundred births and a much lower rate of Force-sensitivity." She shrugged. "They might be mutually exclusive -- in fact, I believe they are. We just don't know enough."

"All right." Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "So this device will mean telepaths can't read our minds. But won't that send up a red flag to them?"

"It might," she conceded. "We've only tested it on a few people. I can say that the effects of it on a Force-sensitive person means that you won't want to run it very long at all. And the range is short, around three or four feet in radius."

"Only in an emergency, then," Obi-Wan murmured.

"That's up to you. We haven't determined any severe side effects from its continued use -- aside from a headache. This, however..." She picked up the case and opened it to reveal a hypospray and several vials of an amber fluid. "We've been experimenting for some time in ways to increase Force acuity. Most of us already know the Force persuasion, which works on those species who have a specific weakness in mind control."

Qui-Gon smiled wryly, remembering his inability with Watto the junk dealer on Tatooine. 

"What this injection does," the healer continued, "is to increase the Force acuity exponentially, until the person injected can literally take over another's mind."

Obi-Wan appeared to be as shocked as Qui-Gon, and his voice, when he spoke, was strangled. "Complete take over? That's... that's..."

"That's highly unethical," Qui-Gon finished for him. "At the very least."

"Yes, you're right, it is." The healer looked at them soberly. "And it comes with a price. It can be used once or even twice -- though I wouldn't recommend it. However, there should not be a third time. There's an element of risk that increases the more times it is used. I cannot really recommend using it at all, but if it must be used, twice should be the absolute limit."

"A risk of...?" Obi-Wan asked.

"It starts with severe aphasia from stroke, all the way to death." 

"Ah." Obi-Wan swallowed. "There are no side-effects to the person being 'read'?" Chaom shook her head in the negative. "And how long do the effects last?"

"That depends entirely on the Force acuity of the person taking the drug." Healer Choam spared a quick glance for both of them. "For either one of you, I would say an hour, maximum. And you must be in touching contact with the person you are reading."

Qui-Gon eyed the case with distaste. "I'm thinking we shouldn't bring it at all." He glanced at Obi-Wan, remembering belatedly that the Council had put him in charge. 

After a long silence, Obi-Wan said, "I think we should bring it, just in case. But I don't like the idea of using it."

Swallowing his pride, Qui-Gon nodded. "It is your call, of course." Obi-Wan shot him a sour look that he couldn't decipher; luckily, the healer began speaking again.

"I have all the documentation on these two crystals, one full set for each of you." She passed them over. "If you have any questions at all, please let me know."

"Thank you, Healer Choam." Obi-Wan stood, and Qui-Gon did as well. 

"Please keep detailed notes on both items -- as your mission allows, at any rate." She smiled as she bowed a farewell to them. Obi-Wan picked up the device and the case and Qui-Gon slipped his data crystal into his belt pouch. "Safe journey to you."

They bowed and left.

They didn't speak as they walked down the hall, but Qui-Gon couldn't hold his thoughts in for long. "I must say, I really don't like the idea of using that drug. It worries me."

"That is hardly up to you, Master Jinn." Obi-Wan didn't even spare him a glance and his voice was acidic. "Since I am in charge of this mission, I will do..." he paused and blinked, his face showing a momentary surprise. When he spoke again, his voice was even harder. "I will do what I must."

Well, that was certainly clear enough. They reached the lifts, boarded and waited for their floor, all without speaking. Qui-Gon felt the sting of Obi-Wan's rejection, but wasn't willing to concede yet. "I'm sure the transport has been arranged by now." He didn't know how to talk to Obi-Wan anymore, and he truly missed the camaraderie they used to share. Well, that... and other things. As the doors opened, he added, "Shall I meet you there?"

"Fine." Without another word, Obi-Wan stalked down the corridor that would lead him to his apartment. 

Qui-Gon sighed, feeling that ache in his upper chest and shoulder again, the ache from where he had nearly been killed by the Sith. Better if he had been, he thought bitterly to himself. Then he wouldn't have to be living with the guilt over what he had done, what had happened. On autopilot, he walked back to his apartment and began packing, taking mostly civilian clothing. The Jedi weren't well-liked on Navist, and it would be better to keep a low profile. 

He almost stopped to comm Obi-Wan, to remind him of that, but stopped himself. Obi-Wan was an adult. Not only that, he was a highly skilled Jedi. He would know what to pack. He was no longer Qui-Gon's worry.

Swallowing hard, Qui-Gon looked at a dusty picture of himself and Obi-Wan, laughing and hugging, in a better time and place. Viciously, Qui-Gon slammed the door to his wardrobe, wishing for the millionth time that Naboo had never been settled, had never been discovered. This time, he added Tatooine as well. What had Hale called Navist? A shithole? Well, if Navist was a shithole, then Tatooine was fifteen parsecs up it.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a slow count of ten before letting it out. He was a Force-damned Jedi master, and he'd better get a good hold of himself. It wouldn't do to start this mission -- which would be, undoubtedly, extremely difficult and dangerous -- in a snit. No, in a fury. No, he amended again, tiredly, the word he wanted would be depression. Or perhaps despair.

Shaking himself out of his... whatever it was, Qui-Gon finished packing quickly and closed his case. The Council had already provided them with a ship, it was time to get going.

* * *

* * *

**Chapter Two**

It was a medium-sized corvette waiting for him, and both Obi-Wan and Crenudo were already aboard by the time Qui-Gon arrived. He met Yoda coming down the ramp. "Ready, are you?"

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon replied. 

"Good, good." Yoda peered up into his eyes. "Good for you, this mission will be. Open mind you should keep."

An open mind? "I... I shall endeavor to do so, Master."

"Do or do not, Master Qui-Gon. Do or do not." With those cryptic words, Yoda hobbled off into the Temple.

Shaking his head in confusion, Qui-Gon walked up the ramp and closed the airlock door. Crenudo was in the galley, making something. Sniffing, Qui-Gon realized what it was -- caf. Ah yes, the caf fiend. "Did Master Yoda give you that?"

"That little green honker be one jingo, Jinn."

Grinning, Qui-Gon dropped his case on one of the chairs. "I'm going to assume that's good."

"Yah." Crenudo grinned back at him. "Ben-boy, he be up front, be gonna fly this. What be the story with you and him, Jinn?"

Qui-Gon blinked. That was fast. "What do you mean?" he hedged.

"Don't be going rockhead, Jinn. Ben he net me, I know 'bout you and him. Now, you be not close enough to touch _or_ fuck." Crenudo's eyes were suddenly quite serious. "You be wanting to tell me?"

Swallowing, feeling half put out and half angry, Qui-Gon finally shook his head. "Not really."

Crenudo shook his own head, slowly, never taking his eyes from Qui-Gon. "Not good answer, Jinn. I be looking out for Ben, you bag? You and me, we fuck, but Ben be my sib. You got maybe better answer?"

Putting aside the utterly ridiculous notion of Crenudo 'looking out for' an experienced Jedi Knight such as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon understood far too well what he meant. "Crenudo, it's really none of your business. What happened... it's between Obi-Wan -- Ben -- and me." He sighed and looked down. "I made some mistakes, and... well, apparently we can't get past them."

There was silence for a while, and when Qui-Gon managed to look up, finally, he saw Crenudo scowling at him. "That still be not good answer, but... We got to be hang here, Jinn. You an' me. We not be done talking, you bag?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Qui-Gon grabbed his satchel and turned. "I'm going to find a bunk and lie down for a while. Please let Obi-Wan know I'm available if he needs to be spelled as pilot."

Crenudo's accusatory glare followed him out into the companionway, but Qui-Gon was used to ignoring such things. After all, he did it every morning, when he looked into the mirror.

* * *

The ship was programmed, they were in hyperspace, there was nothing to do until they reached Navist's system. Obi-Wan could have gone aft to get himself something to eat, or to rest. Instead, he sat curled up in the pilot's chair, his robe wrapped around him, staring vacantly at the stars as they streaked by.

The door opening didn't make him move, but Crenudo handing him a cup of steaming caf did. "That little green honker, he give good stash." 

Obi-Wan smiled and accepted the cup, blowing across the top to cool it. "Thanks."

After a moment, Crenudo sat in the co-pilot's chair, taking absurd care not to touch anything, acting like the controls might bite him. Obi-Wan hid his reaction by taking a sip of his caf. He put the cup in the holder then went back to staring out the forward window. 

"You be ready to talk now?"

Sighing, Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes. "Udo..."

"Glim, I be talk to Jinn, he be all rock and such, he don't talk. You be my sib, I be looking out for you, but you gotta wash, you bag?"

Touched that Crenudo would care for him as much as he did, Obi-Wan sighed again. "Oh, all right." He took another sip of his caf and carefully replaced the cup. "There's this planet called Naboo..."

It wasn't a long story, but it was a painful one. "We'd been quarrelling before we left. He'd wanted me to stay and take my orals, the last formal step before knighthood, but I'd had a bad feeling from the moment we were assigned that mission." Talking about what happened on Naboo, how he had felt pushed aside there, and even worse once they had gotten to Tatooine, made Obi-Wan's headache -- there since Healer Choam had pushed that damn button -- intensify.

"Nab a tick," Crenudo interrupted him. "What this be, he train the sprat?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, thinking, here comes the hard part. "I'm -- I was his padawan, his apprentice. I had been since I was twelve. When the Council told him that Anakin wouldn't be trained, that he was too old -- something I'd already told him -- he said he would train the boy, take the boy as his padawan." He took another deep breath, not that it helped. "You see, no one can have more than one padawan at a time. By saying what he did, he put me aside in favor of the boy, his... the 'Chosen One.' Since I am not the 'Chosen One', I was relegated to second place."

Crenudo's mouth thinned to a line. "Keep on."

"There's not much more. Just how he ran ahead of me while we were fighting that thing, the Sith, thinking he could take the creature on by himself. How it skewered him, how I thought he was dying. How, when he thought _he_ was dying, the only thing he said was 'promise me you'll train the boy.'" Obi-Wan shook his head, twisting his hands to still their trembling. "'The boy' was already dead by that time, but regardless, I didn't need emotional blackmail heaped upon insult."

Crenudo was blessedly silent for a long while, which gave Obi-Wan time to bring himself back under control. By the time he picked his caf up again, it was tepid. He still drained it, screwing up his face as he did. He felt he'd need to stay awake for a while, so that he could more actively avoid Qui-Gon.

When Crenudo finally did speak, his voice was very thoughtful. "This don't be like Jinn, this not be checkit. He be more..." Crenudo waved hands, struggling for the right word. "More straight. You bag?"

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly, breathing past the ache in his chest. "I don't know... I don't think I know him anymore, Crenudo. When he became my lover, I thought it meant forever." He shrugged and swallowed. "It's like... like just before -- or maybe it was just after -- Naboo, he became a whole different person. Or maybe it was me... maybe I couldn't let the insult pass, avoided talking to him and fixing us." He paused for a long time, trying to remember the last time he'd spoken with Qui-Gon. "Maybe... maybe we just outgrew each other." Smiling sadly, he added, "Though it has given me a sort of perverse pleasure to dismiss him and his thoughts as easily as he dismissed me."

Worrying his lower lip, Crenudo didn't speak but frowned at the stars in silence. Finally, he yawned then laughed, apparently having caught himself by surprise. "I be more reamed than I be thinking. Gonna go doss." He stood, again with exaggerated care, and squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You doss too, Ben-boy, you not be staying here."

"I will." Obi-Wan had to smile at how Crenudo cared for him. "See you in the morning."

"Checkit, but I not be glim on what morning be here!"

When Obi-Wan found himself falling asleep after a few moments of painful thought, he finally took his friend's advice. The autopilot would wake him if anything happened, he knew, so he went aft to find himself a place to sleep.

Alone.

* * *

The trip to Navist was seven days. It was an extremely painful seven days as well, with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon doing a polite, distant dance around each other, barely speaking. Crenudo became increasingly quiet, and Qui-Gon often found himself stared at.

Finally, one evening, still a few days from Navist, Qui-Gon couldn't take it any more. "Crenudo, I know you want me to talk to you about Obi-Wan and me, but--"

"Yeah, I be wanting you be wash with me," Crenudo interrupted him. "But I be thinking other thing now." They were in the tiny galley, across the equally miniscule table from each other. Obi-Wan was in the control room, where he generally stayed. "You be outs with Ben-boy, he be outs with you. I be thinking the tips done rearrange you. Maybe you both."

Qui-Gon blinked, then took the time to translate from Navist and from Crenudo-speak, blinking in surprise when he did so. "You think our minds have been tampered with?" 

Crenudo raised one eyebrow. "You not be master for nothin', Jinn," he said, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm.

"That's not possible, Crenudo," Qui-Gon said, firmly overriding a very small, nervous voice in the back of his mind. "We're Jedi. We have... we have shielding, we have very good control over our minds and how we do what we do. We must, it's part of who we are."

"Yah? You wash. You wash about Naboo. I be ear, I be deciding."

Frustrated because he didn't want to talk about that horrible mission, least of all with Crenudo who was clearly not on his side, Qui-Gon crossed his arms and glared. "I don't see why I must tell you what happened to prove my point... that's tantamount to blackmail."

Crenudo shrugged, but there was a wicked gleam in his gray eyes. "You pay you money, you get you fuck."

This was _so_ not what he wanted to do, but he knew Crenudo would worry at him until he explained. Wondering how he ever got into this position, he finally said, "Fine. We were assigned a mission to Naboo, to negotiate with the Trade Federation in order to get them to remove their blockade. The mission turned sour, we ended up fighting--"

"Nab a tick, Jinn." Crenudo held up his hand. "You be leaving out a thing."

Qui-Gon stared at Crenudo, aware that he was grinding his teeth. "If you're referring to the quarrel we had before we left, that was unimportant. Obi-Wan had one minor obstacle between him and his knighthood trials -- his oral exams. He should have stayed on Coruscant and taken them."

"And squib you mission? You be rockhead for thinking that, Jinn."

"We didn't know the mission would turn on us," Qui-Gon said slowly and clearly. "It was to be a routine mission. He should have stayed."

"Routine." Crenudo obviously didn't believe a word of it, and Qui-Gon took a deep breath, trying to release his frustrations to the Force. 

After a moment, when Crenudo added nothing more, Qui-Gon continued. "We had to virtually kidnap the Queen in order to get her to Coruscant and report the Trade Federation's hostile take-over move. The ship was damaged in our escape, and we ended up on Tatooine, needing to -- to find a replacement hyperdrive unit."

Thankfully, Crenudo remained silent. "We didn't have the proper type of cash, of luta. There was a boy -- a slave -- I met, Anakin Skywalker." The memory of that bright child still caused an ache in Qui-Gon's soul. "With his help, we got the drive, and I managed to free him, to bring him to the Temple where he belonged."

"How you be done that?" Crenudo's face was still closed, but he was obviously listening. 

"Anakin took part in a pod race, one I knew he could win. I made wagers based on the luta we did have, that the boy would win. One of the bets was to free him, as well." Qui-Gon shook his head. Anakin's clear voice still followed him, still nagged him with his guilt.

"I glim pod racing," Crenudo said slowly. "That be like fast suicide. This be a boy? A sprat? An' you let him..."

Frowning, Qui-Gon said, "He knew what he was doing. The Force was so strong in him it was like a tidal wave of power. There was no doubt in my mind that he would win. None at all."

"Jinn, you be rockhead." 

"It was my decision." Once again, Qui-Gon squashed that small voice in the back of his brain. "We needed a way off Tatooine, we needed to get to Coruscant. That seemed to be the best, the fastest way."

Crenudo clearly didn't believe it, but he mercifully kept quiet. It _was_ the best way to proceed, Qui-Gon was certain of it.

"We returned to Coruscant and the Queen made her report. The Council sent us back to Naboo with her, to help her regain control from the Trade Federation. But there was a snag... the Sith." Qui-Gon absently began rubbing the aching scar on his upper chest. "A warrior, someone who fought like a Jedi but wasn't. We both fought it, but it was so strong, so wild. I was terrified that it would kill Obi-Wan, even before he would have the chance to take his trials. We got separated, and... and..."

"And it almost killed you." The voice made them turn. Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, his face set and pale, his eyes hooded, his arms crossed before his chest. "I remember that all too well, _Master_. Just as I remember your words to me, the words you thought would be your last."

Qui-Gon bowed his head. "I didn't know..." he murmured. "I didn't know he was already dead, that I had managed to send him to his death. I told him to stay put, and by the gods, he did. I should have known better. I should have been able to save him."

"Anything to save _him_ , right, Master? Anything. You'll pardon me if the nobility of it all makes me want to gag." Obi-Wan's voice held a barely-restrained fury which stunned Qui-Gon. 

Before he could say anything, however, Obi-Wan was gone, turning on his heel and stalking away. Qui-Gon looked at Crenudo, certain his face showed his sorrow. "He can't get past it, he can't get past the fact that I killed Anakin," he murmured. "I killed a child, the boy who was to be my next padawan, the first padawan the two of us would train, would share as bondmates." He sighed. "To be honest, I can't blame him for his anger. I can't get past it either."

Crenudo's head was shaking and the look on his face was incredulous. "Jinn, you be such a goddamned rockhead." He snorted and stood, while Qui-Gon watched him, puzzled and a little put out. "That not be what Ben-boy be having trouble with. You brain not be rearrange, you be squib all by you lonesome." Crenudo chuckled as he stretched luxuriously, then left the room to a still-puzzled Qui-Gon.

That wasn't what Obi-Wan was having problems with? How could that be possible? Qui-Gon knew quite well what had happened, and that was the worst of it. Surely, their quarrel couldn't still be festering, since it was such a minor thing.

Qui-Gon stood and began to pace, frowning so hard his face nearly hurt, mentally going over every step of that agonizing, horrible mission. Why had Crenudo been so astonished that Anakin would fly a pod in a race? True, he had been young... and no human had ever successfully competed in a pod race, let alone won one, but Anakin was smart. He built the pod himself, out of spare parts. He... he... by the Gods. He was a nine year old boy who might have died on that racecourse. 

Finally admitting the truth to himself, Qui-Gon at last understood the foolishness of his actions. They should have explored other avenues in order to find the parts needed. There were other cities on Tatooine. But Qui-Gon had allowed himself to be blinded by Anakin and all he could do, all he was in the Force. Even Obi-Wan was...

Stopping in mid-step, Qui-Gon looked up in shock. Conversations more than a year old -- more than a year suppressed, repressed, shoved away -- came roaring back into his head and he blinked, stupidly. Obi-Wan hadn't liked Anakin at all. In fact, he had warned Qui-Gon that the boy was dangerous, that everyone had sensed it. Qui-Gon knew it wasn't that the boy that was dangerous, he was a boy, for the sake of the Force. But Qui-Gon understood it now, in hindsight... it was the boy being put into danger... by Qui-Gon. That's what everyone sensed, wasn't it? Didn't Obi-Wan know...

With a sudden resolve, Qui-Gon strode out of the galley down the companionway to the tiny stateroom that Obi-Wan had chosen for himself, bursting in, not bothering to knock. Obi-Wan was standing next to his bunk, only a small towel drooping around his hips, obviously just coming from a sonic shower. The sight of all that skin, skin he knew so very intimately but hadn't seen for so very long, robbed Qui-Gon of speech for a moment, but the scowl on Obi-Wan's face brought it back. "You didn't like Anakin, did you?" he all but demanded, before Obi-Wan could speak.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened and the scowl deepened. "You're only just now realizing this?" His voice was sharp and condescending, and Qui-Gon winced. Before he could reply, Obi-Wan continued. "Of course I didn't like Anakin. No more than I enjoyed being shoved aside by my own master in favor of his so-called 'Chosen One.' No more than I liked having my opinions and advice being brushed aside by that master, the man who I thought was my lover! No, Qui-Gon, I didn't like Anakin Skywalker, and I'm not particularly sorry he's dead. At least he was spared from my humiliation of being replaced by another upstart later down the road!"

Qui-Gon reared back, his brain on overload. "But... But I killed him, Obi-Wan! I killed the boy, the one who was to bring--"

"--Balance to the Force and all that shit. Yes, Qui-Gon, I remember it all too well." Obi-Wan's voice had moved away from condescending and was well into coldly bitter.

"He was to be our first padawan!" Qui-Gon surprised himself by shouting. "I never shoved you aside, I could never do something like that, I meant for you and I to train him, together! Didn't you _know_ that?"

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped, and he stared at Qui-Gon as if he were some sort of particularly vile insect that had been squashed by his boot. When he finally found speech, it was trembling with rage. "Of course I didn't know that. How could I possibly know something that was never once mentioned to me!" He ended in a roar and Qui-Gon flinched. "Get out."

"But, Obi-Wan, you don't..."

"Get. Out! I believe I have some meditation to do; a bit of highly-inappropriate emotion to release to the Force. Get out of here!"

The sheer volume being produced by Obi-Wan's lungs would have impressed Qui-Gon on another day; this time, however, they merely drove him out of the small stateroom and back into the companionway. The door slammed in his face.

Crenudo was leaning up against the wall, his arms across his chest, staring at him blandly. "I be told you."

"Shut up, Crenudo," Qui-Gon muttered, rubbing his temples. In a daze, he turned to go to his own bunk. For the first time, he realized the events he had been trying to forget might be completely different from what he remembered. Obi-Wan remembered things differently -- how could he have missed Obi-Wan's animosity towards Anakin? He shook his head and rubbed at the ache in his chest. It was a good thing they still had a couple of days to go before reaching Navist -- he thought he had some meditation of his own to do.

* * *

They reached Navist on schedule, and Obi-Wan brought them out of hyperspace behind the smaller of the world's two moons. Their sampling of the newsfeeds brought them grim news: martial law had been declared in New Jarra and the surrounding suburbs, as well as in Keewanil and several other major cities across the continent. There had been riots that had resulted in mass arrests and deaths. The Gobenflotch -- Navist's version of a ruling body -- was pleading for order, and Mogrit was one step away from being declared dictator, under his claim that only he could bring peace to Navist. 

Ships were still not permitted to land or take off, and any ship caught trying either was summarily destroyed, with no warning. Qui-Gon was in the galley with both Crenudo and Obi-Wan when they heard that news, and it gave him pause... though Obi-Wan only narrowed his eyes in thought, briefly, before leaving the room and heading for the control room.

Too apprehensive to keep his distance, Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan, though he did not sit. "What are you going to do?" he asked, curious and concerned. "The Navistim may be primitive compared to the Republic, but they can still destroy us."

"Don't worry about it." Obi-Wan's voice was clipped. "I have it covered."

"Obi-Wan, the situation--"

"I said I have it covered." Obi-Wan didn't look up from the navicomp. "If you _must_ know, I've got fifteen drones in the hold, and I'm in the process of programming them. We'll all enter the atmosphere at the same time, aimed at low-population points and jamming radar. They can't respond to fifteen blips simultaneously."

"How do you know that?" Qui-Gon demanded, frowning. "And I thought you said we had fifteen drones, were you..."

"It is taken care of." Obi-Wan finally looked up, his face reflecting his impatience and anger. "If you have a better solution, please present it in writing so that I may reject it formally."

That stopped Qui-Gon in his tracks. He stared at Obi-Wan for a moment, too shocked to speak, wondering how the warm, loving padawan he remembered could have turned into someone so cold. Obi-Wan stared right back, unrelenting, until Qui-Gon backed down. "I... I'm sorry. You are in charge, after all. Forgive me." As he returned to the companionway, he saw Obi-Wan turn back to the navicomp, dismissing him.

* * *

The plan worked perfectly. The last drone was released as they landed, aimed for a point several hundred klicks from their actual landing point, another distraction. They hid their corvette in a range of foothills to the mountain range that defined the continent. Obi-Wan was satisfied it would pass all but the most concentrated of searches.

They had come prepared with only civilian clothing and a vehicle that mimicked Navistim cars. Once on the road, they moved quickly, aiming for the university campus where Obi-Wan had once lived, meaning to arrive well before dark. They had managed to determine that Allanz was a patient at the university hospital, and Obi-Wan was counting on the friends he had made there to help them.

Crenudo seemed happy but wary to be home, and willing to go along with the Jedi so far. He had his own contacts, and hoped he would be able to get a pirated teleunit to let his friends know he was back -- with reinforcements. He was also obviously worried about Betha, though he didn't say much to that effect. 

Obi-Wan was terrified that his friend had been destroyed by the kidnapping. He knew how hard it was for her to touch or be touched by people, and knew that she must be in agony, wherever she was. It added urgency to their mission, and made it easier to control his feelings -- his inappropriate, grim satisfaction at treating Qui-Gon they way Qui-Gon had treated him on the mission to Naboo. Obi-Wan was also concerned that he hadn't been able to reach Branny, Betha's sister, before they left Coruscant or as they arrived on Navist. He didn't know if Branny was on the planet, and, given her father's strange behavior before the Council, he wondered whether she was even safe.

They had to pass through four security checkpoints before reaching the University. The telepathic shield box turned out to come in handy, and they weren't even glanced at, though their (forged) papers received some scrutiny. Crenudo stayed hidden in the backseat, just in case his association with Betha had been discovered. Before long, they were driving down the mostly deserted, tree-lined avenues of New Jarra University. Being back on campus gave Obi-Wan a strange feeling, one that he didn't know how to handle -- he had memories there that didn't really match the truth he knew in his head. Plus, because of the shield box, his head was pounding.

He used it all as an excuse to avoid thinking about Qui-Gon. Since that man's astonishing revelation, Obi-Wan had been of two minds -- part of him wanted to at least forgive Qui-Gon's now-obvious actions, actions Obi-Wan should have seen meant both more and less than he thought. The other part of him wanted to just scream and pound on the idiot for his very obliviousness, his thoughtlessness. It made for an interesting meditation topic, but it could also lead to their deaths if he began dwelling on it during the mission. So he put it out of his mind whenever it came crawling back to haunt him.

His old apartment complex was still there, though it looked worse for the wear. There was a service alley behind it, and he pulled in to hide the vehicle, knowing there would probably not be any deliveries. 

Qui-Gon frowned at him. "Why are we stopping here?"

Suppressing the urge to snap, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and replied mildly. "My friend, Sheree, who lived upstairs from me? Her father is -- was -- an elected councilman with the Gobenflotch. I'm hoping he still is, and she's still here. She was a teacher, so chances of that are good."

"I remember Sheree," Crenudo said from the back of the vehicle. "She be good people."

"Would you stay with the car while I go check?" Obi-Wan asked Qui-Gon. "One of us needs to be here just in case."

Qui-Gon looked as though he were forcing himself to calm objectivity as well. "Certainly. Is your com-link active?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan climbed out of the car and, followed by Crenudo, they made their way to the rear entrance of the building.

It was a moment's work to break open the door, past the electronic lock, and carefully move down the hall to the front of the building. The front lobby was a bit shabbier than he remembered, but from the names on the mailboxes, at least half of the apartments were still inhabited. Obi-Wan was relieved to see Sheree's name still next to her apartment number.

They could hear a few voices and music as they climbed the stairs, but it was nothing like the way Obi-Wan remembered it -- a busy, noisy apartment building where everyone looked out for everyone else and house parties were the norm every restday. There wasn't a sound coming from behind Sheree's door, but he knocked anyway.

After a moment, they heard footsteps and knew she was looking at them through the peephole -- another new thing, something that hadn't been necessary when he had lived there. Then the door was thrown open and Sheree stood there, resplendent in a huge, fluffy robe and equally fluffy slippers -- both in shocking purple -- gaping at them. " _Ben_?!"

"Hi ShereeOOF!" Obi-Wan staggered backwards as his friend literally launched herself into his arms. 

"Ben! It is you! Nepper on a duck, I don't believe it! I thought you were gone!" 

Sheree had a stranglehold on his neck and her voice was garbled by her tears, but Obi-Wan made it out well enough. "It's all right, I'm back, I'm glad to see you too."

Abruptly, she let him loose, looking around frantically. "Inside, quick!" she hissed, pushing both of them into her apartment. Once they were inside with the door bolted, she grabbed Crenudo and hugged him too, which he returned enthusiastically. "Stars, it's good to see you, but I shouldn't have kept you out in the hall, I hope nobody glimmed on you... you're an _alien_ , Ben, how did you get here?"

"We came in through the back door," Obi-Wan replied with a chuckle, and Sheree slugged his arm, still grinning. "No, seriously. Our ship is a couple of klicks from here, and..."

"You shouldn't have come." Sheree's face became sober and she swallowed. "If they catch you, Ben, they'll slam you." She looked at Crenudo. "There's a want on your head too, Udo, it came out a few days ago. I tried to find you, but couldn't. Why are you even here?"

"I be going to find Ben-boy," Crenudo said. "Be getting me off-world."

"How the... Never mind, I don't want to know." She scrubbed her face with her hands. "Fa has been able to keep my place clean of the peek stuff, but I don't know how many peeks live in the building. If you've been seen..."

"We were careful," Obi-Wan said, squeezing her shoulder. I doubt anyone saw us, and it's not a restday anyway. They're mostly at work."

Sheree was shaking her head. "It's changed around here, Ben, that's not what it's like anymore. You're expected to carry cards, identification, with you, all the time. The peeks stop you on the street, they come into your office, into your building and you're expected to have the things with you or they slam you."

"We've got false papers, and they've already passed inspection a few times." Obi-Wan pulled her into his arms for another hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you."

"Nothing you could have done," she replied, sniffing into his shoulder. "It's all that damn Mogrit's fault. Him and his tame telepaths -- the ones that _don't exist._ " Pulling away, she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Well, I haven't got much, but what I do have, is yours."

"I be needing net," Crenudo said, indicating her set.

She shook her head. "It's got a hole in it, Udo. You need a public net terminal that can't be traced." She looked between them. "Why have you come back? Please tell me you're here to get rid of Mogrit."

"Sheree..." Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his neck, knowing his answer would frustrate her. "We can hardly do that. No matter how much I may want to vaporize the man, we're still Jedi and Mogrit is still a duly elected official here on Navist. You're not members of the Republic, and we're... well, we're constrained by our own laws in this situation." He felt terrible as he watched her face fall. "I can say that there is a chance that he's working with or is the puppet of someone else, someone from the Republic. If such a connection exists, we need to find it and end it. And we need to find Betha."

"Betha?" 

Crenudo nodded. "She be netname Little Bit," he said.

Sheree goggled at him. "You know Little Bit?"

By the time they got _that_ confusion sorted out, Obi-Wan and Crenudo were sitting at her table, drinking ale. Sheree, it turned out, had joined the 'resistance' just after Crenudo had, though they hadn't met online. The whole underground resistance existed primarily in cyberspace, an amalgam of people ranging from pros like Crenudo to teachers and professionals like Sheree to moms and dads out in the country. The government kept trying to shut it down, but it was impossible -- the net was far too widespread. As soon as one node was destroyed, five others would spring up to take its place.

Sheree had gotten involved through her fiance Thom. This was another new thing for Obi-Wan, and he congratulated her. During their discussion -- often with all three of them talking at once -- a guttural voice interrupted them and Obi-Wan looked down to see a large -- very large -- ginger feline staring at him. "Yoda! Sweet Force, I'd forgotten all about him."

"He graciously allows me to live here with him," Sheree said, laughing. 

Obi-Wan reached out to pet the cat, but with a disdainful sniff, it turned and waddled off. It had obviously fared well with Sheree, and just as obviously had not forgiven Obi-Wan for leaving. 

"Yoda?" Crenudo looked between the retreating feline and Obi-Wan. "You be naming that after that little green honker?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, feeling a bit miffed that Yoda snubbed him. "Don't ask me why."

Crenudo shook his head. "Ree, I be needing to net, tell all I be back."

"I told you, Udo, you can't use mine, it's got a hole." Sheree frowned at him. "We need a pubterm, and I'm not sure where they are now -- a lot of them have been vandalized by the peeks."

"I be finding one," Crenudo said with confidence. "I be calling live meet, we be needing to help Ben-boy find Little Bit."

"I can pass word around campus, and get people that way. I can even get Fa to come, I think. Two days? We can meet in the gym again, I'm sure it's available... there are hardly any classes under this damned peek-net."

"You be seeing that fem in hospital?" Crenudo asked Obi-Wan, by way of answer.

"Yes, we need to find a way to get to see Allanz." Obi-Wan looked between them. "Is it safe to have a meeting with the political climate the way it is?"

"No," Sheree said honestly. "But things are coming to a head, Ben. It's bad. People are talking about open rebellion, about killing and using violence. I don't want it to come to that."

Privately, Obi-Wan was thinking, it may have already come to that. Aloud, though, he agreed with Sheree. "We need to get into the hospital here, to see a patient. Then we're all yours. Crenudo, it's not dark yet, why don't you take the vehicle and go see your friends? I can give you a com-link to stay in touch with us."

"You can doss here, Ben," Sheree said. "My sofa still turns into a bed."

"And Jinn?" Crenudo was looking at Obi-Wan. "What 'bout him?"

"Who?" 

Sheree was looking between them, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I'm here with another Jedi, Sheree. He's still in the vehicle. We don't want to put you out, we can find another place..."

"I have room," Sheree interrupted him. "And this might be the only safe place for you. My name and sire keeps the tips and the peeks mostly out of here, for now anyway. You need to stay here."

Obi-Wan knew she was right. He didn't like the idea of putting her in jeopardy, but also knew they needed her -- and Crenudo, and all their friends -- on the Jedi's side. Or rather, the Jedi needed to let them know _they_ were on the Navistim's side. "All right," he finally said. "Let's go down and get him, and I'll give you the vehicle, Udo."

* * *

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Qui-Gon hadn't met Sheree before, on the last trip. When Obi-Wan came back out and informed him of the plan, he was hesitant -- he wanted to keep their involvement with the locals to a minimum, for everyone's sake. The fact that two friends of Obi-Wan's were involved now only increased the danger to themselves and the Navistim. And Qui-Gon couldn't bear it if Obi-Wan's friends were caught and possibly killed -- the fact that Betha was already in terrible danger was eating him up inside. He loved the child dearly and knew she must be suffering.

Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that Obi-Wan was placed in charge in this mission, he collected their gear and watched as Crenudo maneuvered out of the alley, hoping the young man would stay safe. He then followed Obi-Wan into the building and up the stairs, being as quiet as he could, copying Obi-Wan's movements.

When the door opened, he stopped, stunned. Sheree was a tall, beautiful woman with long blonde hair and rich brown eyes. The fact that she was dressed in an oversize, comfortable-looking robe and that said hair was haphazardly pulled back in a tail did nothing to diminish her beauty. She let them in and quickly closed the door, locking it.

"Sheree, this is... Qui-Gon Jinn. My partner." Obi-Wan's voice was tentative at first, and Qui-Gon frowned to himself. 

"Well met," Sheree said, extending her fingers, and Qui-Gon cursed silently. Her voice was as lovely as the rest of her. No wonder Obi-Wan wanted to come here. Shoving his sudden jealousy aside, he managed to avoid looking at Obi-Wan.

"Any friend of Obi-Wan's is a friend of mine." As he took her fingers, bowing over them, he managed to call up a pleasant tone of voice.

"Obi-Wan?" Ah, yes, she hadn't known him by that name.

"My real name," Obi-Wan explained to her. "You can just keep calling me Ben if you want, Sheree."

"It is easier." Her smile revealed her dimples and Qui-Gon found himself almost hating her. "Do all Jedi have such odd names? Obi-Wan... Qui-Gon?"

"Not all of us, just some," Qui-Gon said, dredging up a smile in return. "Obi-Wan -- Ben -- has briefed me in your plan... I hate to put you out, as much as I hate to put you in danger."

"I'm in danger just by breathing, Sar Jinn," Sheree said ruefully. "Everyone is, these days. Can I get you something? Ben, do you want another ale?"

They settled at Sheree's small table. She was a gracious and knowledgeable hostess, and it made Qui-Gon disgruntled -- he didn't know the reason for his strange jealousy and it annoyed him. It wasn't as if he and Obi-Wan were lovers anymore -- and that thought left him with an ache chest, again. 

Sheree filled them in on everything she had learned -- through the resistance and through what her father had told her. Her mother was dead some years past, and she and her father were very close. She feared for him, it was obvious, feared that he might 'disappear' like so many of Mogrit's enemies had in the last few years. The tips -- the telepaths -- were with Mogrit all the time now, and no, she didn't know if her father had ever seen anyone from off-planet near Mogrit. Mogrit's faction was Navist-centric, and had even attempted to foment problems for aliens, so it seemed unlikely. There were very, very few non-Navistim left on-planet.

The university was, as universities tend to be, a hotbed of revolution. There were, of course, the conservative factions who threw in with Mogrit and his cronies in the hopes of winding up on the winner's side, but overall, those who lived and worked on campus were angry. Angry at Mogrit, angry at the telepaths that had finally been acknowledged after years of denial, angry at off-worlders who could get away from all of it, angry at themselves for not seeing Mogrit's duplicity earlier. The political wind at present was blowing in favor of Mogrit's policies, though many were now realizing how dangerous that could be for all of the Navistim.

Sheree was able to help them in their secondary effort as well. She had a good friend who was a nurse-practitioner at the university hospital, currently working the evening shift. She would be able to get them in to see Allanz, which is what they needed. A call to her brought the woman -- Fallown Durst -- to Sheree's apartment, to talk in private. She knew of Allanz, and warned them, the coma Allanz was in signified a persistent vegetative state.

"Is there any hope for her?" Obi-Wan asked, looking as concerned as Qui-Gon felt.

"I'm sorry, but no." Durst gave them sympathetic looks. "Her injuries were extensive, and the only way she's alive now is through respirators. Once her major organs begin to fail, she'll be removed from life-support altogether. I'm truly sorry."

"We'd still like to see her," Qui-Gon said, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

"Checkit, as long as you understand she's dying. I can get you in with little problem. The security force around the hospital lately is a total gag." They set a time and Durst left.

Obi-Wan frowned at Qui-Gon. "You're planning something. If Allanz is catatonic..."

"We've been given the means to enter her mind, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said. "That drug."

"That extremely dangerous drug!" They were speaking Basic and Sheree was watching them, confused. "You heard the healer and you said it yourself, you wouldn't want to use it."

"We need to find Betha. Allanz may still retain the memory of what happened, of who hurt her and took Betha." He frowned in the face of Obi-Wan's increasing ire. "In my opinion, it's worth the risk. The benefits outweigh the costs."

"May I remind you, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan said icily, "I am in charge of this mission. Not you."

"I am aware of that, Knight Kenobi," Qui-Gon said through gritted teeth. Obi-Wan's obstinacy was beginning to grate on his nerves. He didn't remember Obi-Wan being this stubborn or this harsh, and he wondered when it began. "If you have a better plan, please inform me... I promise to at least be open-minded about it!" They stared at each other, seething in silence. Grabbing onto his serenity with both fists, Qui-Gon forced himself to calm. "Since you _are_ in charge of the mission and have the better knowledge and contacts, I should be the one to make the attempt. If nothing happens, we figure out another method."

Obi-Wan turned away and strode to the shuttered window where he stood, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Qui-Gon could feel the emotions roiling in him and was hard pressed not to go to him. Almost against his will, he was discovering, all over again, how much he loved Obi-Wan Kenobi, and how much their continued separation hurt. 

When Obi-Wan turned from the window, he was calmer, and was able to speak normally. "Very well. We'll try it. But I reserve the right to destroy it, depending on what happens with you."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I understand."

Obi-Wan looked at the mystified Sheree. "I'm sorry, Ree," he said. "We had some things to discuss. We shouldn't have left you out of the process."

"That's checkit," Sheree said. There was a sad smile on her face. "I think I just glimmed you really are an alien, Ben. I guess I really didn't believe it, before."

"I'm sorry, Sheree." Obi-Wan sounded genuinely contrite. With a start, Qui-Gon realized he felt no sorrow at all over Sheree's confusion, instead enjoying a rather perverse -- and terribly un-Jedi-like -- pleasure that she was feeling distant from Obi-Wan. 

Something brushed his leg. When he looked down, he saw a feline, a rather fat feline, rubbing against his legs. With a start, he remembered. "Yoda!" The cat purred at hearing its name. He leaned down and rubbed the top of its head. "I'd forgotten all about this animal. He looks remarkably well-fed."

Sheree laughed, but Obi-Wan did not. Instead, he began a conversation with Sheree about dinner, and how much they would attempt to reimburse her for staying the night, or two nights as it might be. Excluded from that, Qui-Gon kept his fingers where Yoda could rub against them, which the cat did, purring loudly.

* * *

Their appointment with Sheree's friend, Fallown Durst, was deep in the middle of the night, when hopefully few people would be about. Sheree's sofa turned into a bed much as Obi-Wan's had, those many years ago. It wasn't a wide bed, but it might have been comfortable if the two people on it weren't being so careful to avoid touching each other.

Sheree had given them a copy of her identicard, which they could use to get into and out of her apartment, before she had retired for the night. Qui-Gon was surprised that Obi-Wan didn't share her bed, but then again, he might not have wanted to wake her when they left. Yoda apparently felt no compunctions against it, and after a last rub from Qui-Gon's fingers, followed her to her bedroom.

Sleeping next to Obi-Wan, holding him, feeling him breathe, had been one of the greatest pleasures Qui-Gon had ever known. Now, all he felt was pain and discomfort. It seemed that their rift was deeper than he'd imagined, and was based on misunderstandings he'd misunderstood. Stubborn pride spoke to him, saying he wanted an apology from Obi-Wan, wanted Obi-Wan to apologize for some of the things he'd said and did during that awful Naboo mission. Another part of him wanted to crawl on hands and knees, begging Obi-Wan to forgive him for what _he'd_ said and done during the mission.

But most of him just missed Obi-Wan. Missed holding him, touching him, kissing him... missed simply talking to him without getting angry. It was harder than he had expected to return to the place where they had fallen in love, where they had decided to walk through life together. Much harder.

"How did we let this happen?" With a start, he realized he'd said that aloud, and hoped Obi-Wan was already asleep.

That hope was dashed when, after a moment, he heard a reply. "I don't know." Their voices were quiet, whispering, so as not to disturb Sheree. 

"We should have talked this out, not just let it get wider between us." Talk about obvious generalities...

"That whole mission was a disaster." Qui-Gon couldn't hear any emotion at all in Obi-Wan's voice. "I don't remember returning -- I spent the whole time back with you and the Healers'. I don't even remember my knighting ceremony, something which I thought would be important."

Qui-Gon winced. That was yet another thing. "I thought you hated me, which is why you just let someone else cut your braid -- to spite me. For letting Anakin die."

"No." They were silent for a long while, listening to the creaks and faint groans of an old building settling. "I was angry with you. Very angry. I think, no, I know I still am."

"But not for letting Anakin die."

"No." After a few more silent moments, Qui-Gon felt the bed shift as Obi-Wan rolled to his side, facing him. "I felt sorry for that child, being a slave, not having a father, being Force-sensitive in a sea of people who couldn't understand it. But he was simply too old to begin training, Qui-Gon. His slavery was too ingrained. He thought of the Jedi as just another owner, in a way."

Turning his head, Qui-Gon could just see the shadowy outline of Obi-Wan, his head propped up on his hand. "He was so powerful."

"Power can go both ways, Qui-Gon. I know you don't believe in my foreseeings but--"

"I never said that."

"--But every nerve I had was tingling whenever he was around. He was angry, had so much anger in him. Fear too. Had he lived, he might have done terrible things."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "He was a boy, Obi-Wan."

"With a midi-chlorian count of over twenty thousand. He wasn't 'just a boy'. And now, knowing that the Sith master is out there, looking for another apprentice..."

Sighing, Qui-Gon conceded aloud, having already conceded in his heart. "You're right. I... I was wrong." After a few more moments, he added, "That doesn't obviate my guilt, though. In a way, I was unconsciously putting him in danger, into dangerous situations. It's no wonder he... died."

"His death was none of your doing, Qui-Gon Jinn." Obi-Wan's voice was firm, but not angry. "It might, though, have been the Will of the Force." Qui-Gon swallowed hard at that. Obi-Wan continued. "When we returned from Naboo, things escalated out of hand immediately. All you wanted to talk about was Anakin, and all I wanted to do was be with you. I couldn't as long as you wanted to be with Anakin."

"Looking back on it now," Qui-Gon said slowly, "I realize I was angry too -- at you, at the Council, at myself. I said and did some terrible things to you, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, you did." 

There was nothing to say to that except.... "I'm sorry. I'm so dreadfully sorry."

"Your injuries terrified me -- I was so certain you were going to die and it would be all my fault, for arguing with you, for being angry with you, for not running or fighting fast enough." Obi-Wan swallowed. "All I wanted was be near you, but you kept pushing me away. I didn't know what to do, how to fix us. Perhaps I didn't try hard enough."

"Perhaps neither of us tried hard enough." Picking at the nubby blanket beneath him, Qui-Gon considered the truth in those words. "Crenudo... on the way here, Crenudo said something to me. He said that it sounded as if our minds had been tampered with. That we'd been influenced somehow. I discounted it then..."

"Tampered with?" 

"The idea is not without merit, Obi-Wan, especially the more I think about it. Who is most ideally suited for the mission to find the Sith master? We are, having already destroyed what we assumed was the apprentice. We are a formidable team together, but..."

"But we're not together." Qui-Gon could hear the frown in Obi-Wan's voice. "That's insane. It can't be real. Who would have the ability, the power to... It's absurd. Do you think..."

"I don't know what to think." Except that I love you, Qui-Gon added in his head. Then he realized, his words would do neither of them any good unspoken. Too many things had gone unspoken between them lately. "Except that I love you."

Aside from a quick intake of breath, Qui-Gon heard nothing after his words. After a long, long silence, Obi-Wan's whisper finally reached him. "I've never stopped loving you."

"Do you think we can ever..."

"I don't know." Their silence was heavy and tense. "When this mission is over..."

"Yes." Obi-Wan settled back down on his back at Qui-Gon's agreement. After another pause, Qui-Gon continued. "When this mission is over, we need to talk. At length." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly -- next to him, he could feel Obi-Wan do the same. "I would like it very much if we could get back to the way we were."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said and Qui-Gon choked back his reaction, keeping silent through dint of will. "We can never again be what we were. But we might be able to be something different."

"I want to be with you," Qui-Gon breathed. "In any way possible."

He felt rather than saw Obi-Wan nod his head. Rather than pursuing it, he forced himself to relax, to sleep for a couple of hours before they had to leave for the hospital. It was a beginning. He would have to see to it that it continued. And if that meant overriding his pride, if it meant backing down even when he thought he was right, well, so be it. Maybe it was time he stopped being such a stubborn, idiotic old man and started realizing what was most important to him.

* * *

The campus was very quiet. It was just three hours until dawn, and, save for a few key places, everything was dark. The only things that moved were the small, nocturnal animals who made the trees their home and two Jedi, heading for the hospital.

They were precisely on time. Fallown Durst met them at the service entrance and let them in. They followed her through a maze of back corridors to a service lift, which they took to the third floor.

She flipped a switch once the doors opened. "Turn it back on when you need to leave. Can you find your way out through the basement?" Her voice was very soft.

After they assured her they could, she led them to Allanz's room, which was alive with the sounds of machinery -- beeps and pings and the whoosh of a respirator. Allanz lay flat on the bed and had monitors and needles coming out of her. 

Obi-Wan seemed to be shocked and appalled at her appearance. "Gods. What did they do to her?" he muttered.

The nurse practitioner sighed. "The list of her injuries goes on for pages. We thought she'd been hit by a transport or something when she first came in, then one of the examining doctors realized she'd been beaten." Shaking her head, she added, "I doubt there's anything you can get out of her, but you can try. I've got rounds, they're every half-hour. You should be safe since I'm the only one on duty tonight, but I'll check up on you when I can. Let me know if you need help getting out of here."

Allanz was almost unrecognizable under the mass of equipment. Her legs were encased in some sort of device that might have been for bone mending, but neither Jedi was familiar enough with Navistim medicine to do other than guess. Her face was swollen, her hair mostly gone in order to facilitate the stitches in her skull. 

"They were intending to kill her." Qui-Gon remembered the vibrant woman who had been so over-protective of Betha, who had been so nice to him and to Obi-Wan. "I don't know how she lived."

"She's strong and stubborn." Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Not unlike some Jedi masters I know. Are you certain you want to do this?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon didn't allow his trepidation to filter through his words. "We need to know if there's anything she can still tell us about what happened."

Obi-Wan looked as though he wanted to argue, but in the end he just nodded and removed the hypospray from his pocket. "I've done all the reading. I'm going to give you a half-dose, and if that isn't enough, I'll give you another quarter. I'm not risking your life here, Qui-Gon."

"Understood." Gently, Qui-Gon pushed tubes and wires away from Allanz enough to allow him to perch on the bed next to her. The hypospray was cold against his neck for a moment, then he picked up one lax hand and closed his eyes.

He drifted, alone in the quiet dark. The sounds of life-sustaining equipment began to fade from his consciousness as slowly, a different noise began to impinge on his consciousness.

It was like hearing the cry of a baby in pain, from a great distance. Irritating, frightening, not to be denied or ignored. Gradually, he sank into what was left of Allanz, batting past images that had no meaning -- a vehicle, limping down the street with only three wheels. A lightsaber deflecting a bolt from a trainer and a patient voice saying, "Again." Betha's twisted face smiling at her.

There was the sensation of water, swimming. Then a flash of something, fear coming from nowhere, and lights. Screams. Many men, a jumble of men, rough hands grabbing her and the intense desire to kill! To maim! One screaming howl, "Don't touch/hurt/touch/harm her!"

Webbing, tied up, caught in a spider's web, Betha's whimpers "It's going to be all right, Squirt, I'm here, I'll take care of everything" movement. They were being moved, flown, then down, door opens to sunshine (hadn't it been dark before?) explosion into movement, taking them all on, too many of them, "Don't _touch_ her!"

Pain. Someone was slamming her face into the hard surface of the road? runway? It hurt, but then it hurt more, protect Betha! Too many men. Pain! Betha! Pain! _Pain!_ A face, recognized, shadowy, who is that keep away from her!

"Let me go. Let me go, please." 

It took Qui-Gon a moment to register that soft, plaintive voice which seeped out of the maelstrom. "Allanz?"

"You know where she is now. Please, make them let me go. Tell her I love her and I'm sorry."

"But..." More pain, more and more and more hitting, punching, atrocities, rape, violation, "Make her scream, it's fun" must get to Betha, must help Betha screaming as her legs are broken, such unimaginable pain... falling to the road and there's nothing... must help Betha, Betha!

Suddenly, all the pain left and he was back on his bed in the Temple. Obi-Wan was there, next to him, they were spooned up together and Obi-Wan was crooning nonsense in his ear. "It's all right, come out of there, please, Qui-Gon, come out of there..."

Qui-Gon rolled over and pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, and they were naked under the sheet, just how it used to be was is... "I love you" "I love you" the delicious feeling of arousal, both of them aroused, warm scent warm body pliant in his arms "I love you." He's not worthy of your love yes, yes he is.

"I love you. I love you. I never stopped loving you. But you must set aside the drug and come out now." Obi-Wan rubbed against him like a cat, like that damn Yoda, such a cat, not paying any attention to him silly thing really not his cat anymore anyway glad he's with Sheree and when she gets married there will be an outside for him and maybe he can come back for the handfasting Qui-Gon, I love you too, so much, oh master wait for me, please wait for me please don't fight it alone I love you don't die please don't die, he did it deliberately, he wanted to hurt you, oh, no, that's not it at all, he wanted to hurt you he didn't trust you no, truly, that's not it at all please, please don't die.

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan's voice was softly insistent and with effort, Qui-Gon dragged his mind back into his own body, aware that every muscle he owned was rigid with effort. Sweat beaded on his forehead and tears watered his cheeks. "Qui-Gon? It's been close to an hour, Qui-Gon, Fallown says we have to leave while it's still safe. Qui-Gon?"

"I... I-I'm... I'm here..." His tongue felt like it was wrapped in several layers of cloth and his jaw hurt from clenching it. Faintly, he could still pick up scattered thoughts from Obi-Wan, mostly fear and worry but some anger too, anger he would put himself at risk again. "I'm fine," Qui-Gon managed to get out past dry lips.

"No, you're not, but I'm not going to debate you. We need to leave. Can you stand?" 

Obi-Wan's beautiful and expressive eyes were clouded with worry, with fear. "I'll never leave you," Qui-Gon murmured and he felt a tremor go through Obi-Wan's body.

"Damn right you won't." Propping Qui-Gon up, Obi-Wan opened the door, checked the corridor and hurried them down to the freight lift. Within a few moments, they were outside the hospital, leaning against the door, breathing heavily. The first faint tendrils of light were beginning to paint the sky with false dawn, and they needed to get back to Sheree's apartment before anyone saw them.

Before Qui-Gon could move, Obi-Wan turned and pushed him into the wall. "Damn you," Obi-Wan growled, before kissing Qui-Gon senseless.

Not that he had a lot of sense before the kiss, he reminded himself. Through what was left of the drug, Qui-Gon could pick up some of the roiling emotions surging through Obi-Wan, but didn't particularly care. His hands came up to frame that dear face, and he just kissed the man for all he was worth, not caring where they were or what they were doing, just reveling in the taste of Obi-Wan. It had been too long. Far too long.

When the kiss ended, Obi-Wan took his hand and they quietly made their way back to Sheree's apartment.

* * *

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Obi-Wan let Qui-Gon sleep, hoping the aftereffects of the drug would be purged from his body by the time he woke. Sheree was up and they were making plans by the time Qui-Gon stirred from his cocoon of blankets. 

Propping him up with pillows behind him, Obi-Wan gave him a glass of water. "What is the time?" he asked, after emptying the glass.

"It's mid-morning. Sheree is about to leave to go talk to her father. Are you all right?" Obi-Wan perched on the edge of the bed and looked carefully into his face.

"Better," Qui-Gon said, closing his eyes. "I'm a bit dizzy, but I think that will go away once I get some calories into me. The drug seems to have depleted my energy reserves."

"That's not all it did," Obi-Wan murmured. "We've got a plate of something here for you, kept warm. Can you get down the hall to the 'fresher?"

Qui-Gon took a deep breath and, after handing Obi-Wan the glass, pushed himself to the edge of the bed. He looked terrible, gray and sunken, and Obi-Wan felt all over again the panic when Qui-Gon was so badly hurt. Suppressing it ruthlessly, he made sure Qui-Gon was steady on his feet and left him to his privacy.

Sheree had already taken the plate of food from the warmer and put it on the table. Obi-Wan busied himself by making a fresh pot of tea, since he knew Qui-Gon would want it.

"Are you all right?"

Obi-Wan looked up, startled by Sheree's tentative question. "I'm fine, why?"

"You don't look fine. Checkit, you don't look as bad as he does, but you don't look fine."

Sitting heavily, Obi-Wan sighed. "He was injured about a year ago. He almost died. This..."

"Brings it all back to you." She nodded sagely. "I still can't smell amelias without thinking of mam."

Though it was a completely different situation -- Sheree's mother had died, and, thank the Force, Qui-Gon hadn't -- he let it go. She was ready to leave anyway. "I need to get there before noon, or else he won't be alone. I'll be back sometime this afternoon, all right?"

"We'll be fine. Thank you for all your help, Ree. We really appreciate it. And be careful."

"I'm always careful." With a grin and a wave, she left the apartment

After a moment, Qui-Gon came down the hall, walking slowly and very precisely. Obi-Wan helped him to his chair and poured him a cup of tea. 

To his surprise, Qui-Gon demolished the food left for him and was shortly asking for more. Over the course of about an hour, he ate nearly everything in Sheree's kitchen, and Obi-Wan was in awe. "You're going to explode."

"No, but I feel much better," Qui-Gon allowed. He finished off his tea and smiled, tentatively, at Obi-Wan. "I think we got what we needed, last night."

"I'm not so sure," Obi-Wan replied. "That drug... it's too dangerous to use. You were gone, I could barely sense you, for most of an hour. I finally had to physically break contact between you and Allanz."

"So that's what happened." Qui-Gon rubbed his jaw. "It didn't seem like an hour. It only seemed like a few moments. But when you touched me..."

"You must have picked up on me. I felt you, trying to influence me... reading... what I was feeling and thinking."

Qui-Gon blinked in surprise. "I was? I assure you, it wasn't intentional. I was even going to say that the drug didn't work like that, since I was unprepared for such a blast of emotion. I couldn't have controlled an insect." He frowned. "I wonder if I tried it again, this time aware of and prepared for the--"

"No." Obi-Wan shook his head. "It's too dangerous." Damn the man for putting himself into such situations anyway.

"Don't automatically discount it, Obi-Wan. We still have a long ways to go on this mission. And now that I know what happens, I can be prepared for it." He met Obi-Wan's frustrated scowl with a mild look of his own.

"We're not going to stop discussing this, Qui-Gon." Finally, Obi-Wan's curiosity overcame his frustrated anger. "What did happen? What information did you get?"

"I'm going to have to meditate on it," Qui-Gon said, toying with the crumbs on his plate. "I believe I know where they took Betha, and Allanz too, before they tried to kill her. But it's all jumbled, it's not clear. I think if I meditate on it, I can arrange it into easily translated sections. One thing, though, surprised me."

"What?"

"She came to me, asked me to help her leave, to let her go." Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan seriously. "She came to me as a Force ghost, Obi-Wan."

"As a what?" This news rocked Obi-Wan down to his core. "But..."

"Only Force-sensitives can do that, yes, I know. I couldn't do what she was asking, I couldn't... not and be certain of not following her." Qui-Gon sighed. "Let me meditate on what I saw for a couple of hours. I think I can write it all down after that. I'd like to find a way to do as she asked. Do you know her family?"

"No. If I could reach Branny, I'd be able to find out... or perhaps we could break into the hospital's records to see who is listed as next of kin." Questions were driving him insane yet he knew the only way he could get answers was to be patient. A big hole was Branny Hale, who hadn't returned any of his messages. The strange way Hale was acting in the Council chamber gave him pause, and he wondered if Branny was all right, if Hale was all right, and if there was anything he could do to find out -- about either of them.

Qui-Gon helped him put the sofa back together and then knelt on the floor, in a shaft of sunlight from the window, and went under. Qui-Gon looked beautiful in the sunlight, his face composed, his aura at peace. Last night, there had been no way that Obi-Wan was letting Qui-Gon go without kissing him, and it disturbed him how close he came to merely ripping their clothes off and taking the man then and there. He hoped it was an effect of the drug, but even if it wasn't, the idea had to have been coming from one, or possibly both, of them.

It was almost frightening how easily they slipped into a working relationship again, even though the deep rift between them was still there. Being honest with himself -- something he hadn't done for a while -- Obi-Wan realized that it was also frightening how easily such a chasm could be bridged. As easy as it was to perpetuate, oddly enough -- an idea which gave him pause. In better times, Obi-Wan had fantasized about working with Qui-Gon after he was knighted, becoming a team, a force for all things Light in the galaxy. When Qui-Gon nearly died, that childish dream had died as well. But now... perhaps there was hope for them after all. Perhaps.

Sighing, Obi-Wan picked up the grocery list Sheree had left him, along with her creditchip, and went shopping. He left Qui-Gon a note, but knew that he had to get out of there before he lost what was left of his senses.

* * *

Shopping took him longer than anticipated. He first had to go a round-about way there and back from the store, to avoid roving patrols. Then he had been stopped half a dozen times by friends he remembered from his first time on Navist. He had only kept up with Betha, Crenudo and Sheree, so his friends didn't know what had happened to him. Hastily making up a rather bizarre story, he begged off and hurried back, his arms filled with bags.

Qui-Gon was out of meditation and sitting at the table, intently writing something. Sheets of paper, already covered with his precise, spidery script, were overflowing everywhere. Yoda had commandeered one of them as a bed. 

"What's all this?" Obi-Wan put the bags down in Sheree's kitchen and approached the table.

"Meditation brought out more information than I'd known was there," Qui-Gon replied absently. "I'm not a good draftsman, but I tried to sketch the area where Betha and Allanz had been taken. She had an excellent view of it, but didn't know precisely where it was."

Quickly putting the items that had to be kept cold away, Obi-Wan returned to the table and sat. He began gathering the sheets, including the one Yoda was sprawled on, and as he skimmed them, he tried to put them into a semblance of order.

Betha and Allanz had been attacked while Betha was at physical therapy in the large indoor pool, kept expressly for that purpose. The attackers had allowed for everything, apparently, descending on the Hale estate commando-style, in flyers and by ground vehicles. There must have been dozens of men, all dressed alike in mufti and carrying blasters, stunners and plain old bludgeons. Obi-Wan wouldn't have put it past Allanz to take on anything short of an army and win -- apparently, whoever had plotted this had made sure an army was what she got.

The two of them had been caught in a webbing of some sort, which tightened the more they struggled. When they landed a bit over an hour later, Allanz had noticed that the sun was just beginning to set, when it had already been dark at the estate. Therefore, the place they had been taken was at least several thousand klicks west of the estate, which put it outside of New Jarra altogether, but not so far that it took longer than an hour to fly there.

Betha had been all but catatonic due to the rough handling. Obi-Wan remembered how hard it was for her to bear anyone's touch, and felt a tightness in his throat and an urge to kill whoever was responsible. When their captors released the webbing, Allanz had gone into an absolute fury, whirling and striking wherever she could; a she-cat protecting her cub. There had been screams and yelps as she delivered damage, but in the end, Betha was her undoing. Mogrit had appeared, yanked the webbing and Betha to him, and held a knife to her throat. 

That momentary distraction had allowed her attackers to overcome Allanz, by sheer force of numbers. She went under, screaming Betha's name, and the real torment had begun.

Qui-Gon went into exquisite detail on what he remembered from Allanz's mind about her attackers, their location, who was with them, and more. But he was mercifully silent on her torture, for all that he had to have experienced it with her.

There had been one last point. Mogrit had not been alone. Someone was with him, and that someone hadn't been seen well enough by Allanz to identify. 

Obi-Wan looked up from his reading as Qui-Gon finished the last page. "This is amazing."

"It was all there." Qui-Gon tossed his writing instrument on the paper and leaned back, shaking his hand out from its cramp. "It was... like how I imagine a core dump must be for a computer. All of it descended on me at once, all of it, including the pain and how they hurt her." He closed his eyes and his face pinched in remembrance. "She didn't deserve that. No one does."

Obi-Wan could only nod in agreement. "It's unfortunate that we can't use this as proof of anything," he said softly, carefully stacking the papers scattered on the table. "Something like this would certainly destroy Mogrit."

Qui-Gon nodded, then glanced briefly at Obi-Wan. "There... there was something else. Something in your mind."

Frowning, Obi-Wan said, "What? What was it?"

"I heard your voice." Qui-Gon was still massaging his cramped hand, and was carefully not looking at him. "But... once or twice, I heard something else. Something that was like your voice only... not. Like someone else's voice on top of yours, or under yours." He shrugged. "I might have imagined it." 

Not sure how to respond to that, Obi-Wan continued to put everything in order. Once that was done, he turned to the rough sketch. "We need someone who knows the central plains well," Obi-Wan said. "The estate is pretty much due north of New Jarra. Allanz has told us that wherever they were taken was west of it, far west, for the sun to have been several hours from setting." Narrowing his eyes, he thought back to what he knew of Navist. "Keewanil, maybe, or Bhosdon. Maybe even further -- how fast do airships fly here? We need a map..."

Sheree had an old, dusty globe on one of her bookshelves, and the two of them consulted it. Qui-Gon measured distances with his fingers. "Either one of those cities would work, Obi-Wan."

"Mogrit is from Keewanil." They looked at each other. "What better place for a power base than where you grew up? I think..."

Before he could say anything else, the door flew open and Sheree ran in. "Fa's on his way up," she said, breathless.

* * *

Obi-Wan had never met Sheree's father, Dorgen Loos. Sar Loos had been a Member of the Gobenflotch for decades, was one of the body's elder statesmen. He was known by reputation as being a no-nonsense person who had a devastatingly cutting wit and a low tolerance for fools and off-worlders. He was also a known isolationist.

So Obi-Wan didn't panic when Sheree burst in on them, but he did stand and put the table between himself and the door. Qui-Gon shot him a puzzled look, but he didn't have time to explain before Sar Loos was taking up half of the door.

He wasn't an obese man, he was simply huge. The thick shock of white hair nearly brushed the doorjamb as he entered, and immediately Sheree's apartment seemed to shrink half its size. 

Sheree, who wasn't afraid of _anything_ , hastily closed the door behind her father and scurried off to get some water boiling for tea or caf. Sar Loos and the Jedi simply stared, assessing each other. Qui-Gon slowly rose to his feet.

When she came back to the room, Sheree cleared her throat. "Fa, this is Ben, I mean, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his partner, Qui-Gon Jinn. I have the honor of introducing my father, Dorgen Loos."

The Jedi bowed deeply as they were introduced, but Sar Loos did nothing but stare. Finally, he spoke -- in an incredibly mild, tenor voice that belied his size and intimidation factor -- "So you're the aliens putting my only daughter into danger."

"Fa!"

Obi-Wan held up his hand to forestall her. "He's right, Ree. We _are_ putting you in danger."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Sheree said with some asperity. "And I gave you my permission to stay here. I care about my world too. I'm no dusthead. I have the right to... to put myself into danger if I must."

"Yes, you're right; you're an adult who is capable of caring for herself." Sar Loos reached out and gently pinched her chin. "But I'm an adult as well, who happens to be your sire. You'll forgive me if I'm feeling overprotective in these troubled times."

Obi-Wan was impressed. It was fairly obvious what made Sar Loos such a respected politician. "We are not here to interfere with your government or your way of life, Sar Loos. We have a specific mission; two, in fact. From what we've been able to ascertain, however, one of the missions might have an impact on one of your fellow members, Sar Mogrit."

Sar Loos didn't move or change expression, but Obi-Wan could have sworn the temperature dropped twenty degrees. "There is nothing that I can do to help you with regards to Sar Mogrit," Loos said. 

"The Jedi believe Sar Mogrit may be in collusion with a citizen of the Republic, for nefarious purposes." Qui-Gon's voice was as mild as Sar Loos', and Obi-Wan wondered for the hundredth time how he did that. "If that is the case, we need to terminate such liaison immediately. It violates our tenet of non-interference with regards to Navist."

"Why would someone from your Republic take such an interest in Navist?" Loos asked, narrowing his eyes very slightly.

Qui-Gon shrugged and spread his hands. "We do not know. It may have something to do with the high incidence of telepathy in your population." Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, his face inscrutable. "The fact of the matter is, we do not push ourselves in where we are not wanted, Sar Loos. Our aim is to stop illegal encroachment, not a wholesale take-over of your world."

The temperature slowly rose, but Sar Loos remained where he was. "I've been led to understand that you speak the truth," he finally said, which sounded enough like a concession that Obi-Wan was heartened.

Sheree broke in on the tableau. "Fa, would you _please_ sit down? There's water boiling for tea or caf. Let me fix everyone a cup."

With Sheree's ungentle prodding, they sat at her table, warily cautious of each other. With them side-by-side, Obi-Wan could see her father in Sheree -- the same chocolate eyes, the same height and bone structure. From his coloring, Obi-Wan was willing to bet that Sar Loos had been as blond as his daughter in his youth.

Once everyone had a cup of steaming beverage, Sar Loos fired the opening salvo. "So, if you are not here to _interfere_ , why are you here, Jedi? What is your 'specific' mission?"

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, obviously deferring to the one in charge. For about the millionth time since the Council chamber, Obi-Wan cursed Yoda. "One of them is to find and rescue Betha Hale, who has been kidnapped from the Hale estate. She's... she's a good friend. Whoever kidnapped her has all but killed her caretaker-bodyguard." Obi-Wan paused to take a sip of tea. "That facet of our mission is as personal as it is official. Both Betha and Allanz were good friends."

"Allanz? Allanz Fortier?" 

"Yes." Obi-Wan frowned at Loos. "You knew her?"

"Yes." He shook his head, and Obi-Wan couldn't tell if he was upset or not. "I didn't know about poor Betha. When did it happen?"

"It's been close to three tendays." Deciding to trust, Obi-Wan added, "If you knew Allanz, you must know that Betha has profound physical disabilities, and can't bear being touched by strangers. I intend to find her and make whoever took her pay for all the pain she's had to endure."

"I can understand that." Loos reached out and touched his daughter's hand, and a small, sad smile flitted across his face. "Do you know who took her?"

"We have evidence -- unfortunately, inadmissible evidence -- that Mogrit was either behind it or is at least a co-conspirator in the kidnapping." Obi-Wan watched Loos carefully, but the man was just too good. "If, as we suspect, Mogrit has allied himself with someone in the Republic, all the better."

"That remains to be seen." Loos took another sip of his caf. "Tell me why you believe Sar Mogrit is using or being used by someone in your Republic."

Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon and saw the approval in his eyes. With a deep breath, he began. "Several years ago, the Jedi were made aware of an attempt to discredit the Order by means of fabricating Jedi weaponry and manner of dress. These false Jedi would attack and destroy, or steal, unprovoked." He gave Loos a level stare. "The Jedi do not attack. We are ever the defenders, not the aggressors. When an undercover mission was sent here to Navist to investigate the allegations, we discovered that Mogrit was behind it -- at least part of it. That was also the time that we began to suspect that someone else, someone in the Republic, might also be involved."

"How is it that someone could mimic being a Jedi?" Loos smiled, but it did not touch his eyes. "We've heard all about the magic of the Jedi. You are said to walk on water and have the power to move the sun. How could someone copy this?"

Both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were smiling, slightly. "I assure you, we can do neither of those things," Obi-Wan said. "What Mogrit had was something that is common on Navist -- telepaths. Give a telepath a brown robe and a lightsaber, and I dare the average being to tell him apart from a real Jedi."

"So, you're accusing Mogrit of arming telepaths with these... lightsabers?" Obi-Wan nodded and Loos continued. "Now, he's kidnapped Betha Hale. He sounds like evil incarnate. What will you do next, accuse him of lengthening the day?"

"Fa, you know that Mogrit..."

"Patience, daughter. You trust your Jedi friends; I, on the other hand, do not. I cannot afford to. I have the security of our world to consider." He looked back at Obi-Wan. "Tell me, how do I know that you are speaking the truth? You have alleged that your organization is never aggressive, but how do I know that for a fact? How do I know that you are not attempting to use some sort of mind control on me, or on Sheree? For that matter, how do I know that you are not in collusion with Mogrit and his telepaths, trying to coerce me to implicate myself? Reassure me, Jedi."

"All we have to give you is our word... and this," Qui-Gon said with a glance to Obi-Wan. He rose and went to their belongings, neatly stacked on one of the chairs, to fetch the shielding box. "Obviously, you won't feel this, but we have tested it on telepaths and it does work." He set it on the table and pressed the 'on' switch. "What it does is--"

Loos jerked back and nearly fell off his chair. Through his suddenly wild eyes, he looked between them. "What did you just _do_?!"

* * *

"Fa, why didn't you tell me?" They were in Sheree's living room, and Sar Loos was on the sofa, a cold drink in his hand. His daughter sat next to him, holding his other hand, and the Jedi sat opposite.

"Because it was too dangerous." For the first time since Qui-Gon had powered the shield up, Loos looked directly at the Jedi. His eyes carried haunting shadows. "Our scientists speculate that latent telepathic ability resides in at least five percent of our population. Most never achieve the full powers. Some, like myself, achieve it and then suppress it."

"How long?" Obi-Wan's question was soft and gentle, and Sar Loos didn't even pretend to misunderstand it. 

"Since puberty. That's when it generally manifests, if it's going to." He took a big sip of his drink.

"I can't imagine suppressing something like that," Qui-Gon said quietly. "How it didn't drive you mad..."

"There are times when I wish it had." He sighed. "You must understand, I was elected to the Gobenflotch when I was in my early twenties, it has been my career. Having... this ability would mean that I would have unfair advantage over my rivals. I couldn't allow it to either unduly influence me or allow the knowledge of it to get out." He must have squeezed his daughter's hand, for she smiled at him and kissed their linked fingers. "You have no idea how relieved I was when you passed through your tweens unaffected."

Obi-Wan was in Sheree's overstuffed armchair, and Qui-Gon was perched on the arm. They looked at each other, aware of the other's thoughts without words. "Sar Loos, you have my utmost respect." Qui-Gon's voice was soft but sincere. "Children who have a sensitivity to the Force, but are not brought to the Temple, often go insane. This gift of yours appears to be on a par with that."

"Gift?" Loos looked at them, weary bitterness lining his face. "Curse. More often than not, at any rate. I cannot risk sleeping in town, I must be at my estate out in the country. I cannot let my guard down at any time. I must maintain a defense against any possibility..."

"How do you shield?" Obi-Wan was leaning forward and Qui-Gon frowned at him. "We have this generator here, but it cannot be with us or on all the time. And for that matter, why did you have such a strong reaction to it, when we've used it around other telepaths and never seen such a reaction?"

Loos gestured vaguely. "It's... difficult to explain. On some level, I was _hearing_ you, and though I don't use it to deliberately eavesdrop -- that requires more care than I can generally spare -- I was aware of you there. When you turned it on, it was like you suddenly ceased to exist. You were suddenly gone." He took a shaky drink. "As for shielding, that's almost as hard to explain. You have to keep your mind busy, working on a puzzle or occupied with something."

"A jingle." Qui-Gon was nodding. He remembered his previous trip to Navist, all too well. "Something that keeps running through your mind so that all a telepath would be able to pick up is that."

"Yes, that would do it. There are other methods as well, but that is the most common -- and easiest --way."

"Other methods?" Sheree looked confused, but Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a sour look.

"I'm familiar with some of those other methods." With a sigh, Obi-Wan continued. "Regardless. You are more aware of Mogrit's duplicity than we are, if you've been with him."

Shaking his head, Loos looked down. "As I said, I do not 'eavesdrop' as it may give away my ability. However, I can say his mind is not easy to read. It wouldn't surprise me if he's got this 'gift' -- weak, but there." Loos frowned at the floor for a long moment, then finally spoke again. "Personally, I do not like Mogrit. In fact, I would not trust him not to steal from a baby. Be that as it may, I must think of my constituents -- my world -- first, and Mogrit is a duly elected member of our ruling body. Officially, I can do nothing."

Qui-Gon found himself nodding, his respect for Sheree's father growing by the moment. "I well understand that, Sar Loos. There are times when acting 'officially' can hinder the problems we face."

"I'm glad to see you understand me, Sar Jinn."

"But, Fa..."

Loos turned to her. "Daughter, I said I cannot help you officially. Unofficially, however, I am merely your father and -- I hope -- a friend to these Jedi. And that is how it will have to stay."

"Your father is quite right, Ree," Obi-Wan said. "Sar Loos, were you aware of the growing underground resistance movement?"

Nodding, Loos glanced at his daughter. "And I imagine you're embroiled in it also."

Sheree just smiled and her father shook his head. Obi-Wan continued. "Betha Hale had been acting as a motivating force in that movement. I think that might have been a possible motive in why she was kidnapped."

"I will do everything I can to help you get her back. Betha is a wonderful young lady, and I knew Allanz well." He glanced again at Sheree. "Officially, of course, I know nothing. And, daughter mine, I would appreciate it if, in the future, you let me in -- _privately_ \-- on your political leanings before they become illegal." He smiled, a genuine, if tired, smile. "You bag, daughter?"

Sheree's smile was blinding. "I bag, Fa. Thank you."

Qui-Gon had a thought and stood from his seat next to Obi-Wan, heading for the table. When he returned, Obi-Wan was frowning at him. "Sar Loos, can you _unofficially_ tell me if you recognize this place?" He handed over the rough sketch he had made from Allanz's memories. 

Loos examined the paper with a frown. "I'm sorry for the poor quality, I'm not much of an artist. It was all Allanz could... tell us, about where she and Betha were taken." When Loos looked up at him, he added, "We know it was several hours west of here, by the sun, and we also know that Mogrit was born in Keewanil, which would be about the right location."

"He has a compound on the outskirts of Keewanil," Loos said thoughtfully. "I've never been there, but I know people who have, people who are not sympathetic to him or his causes. May I take this with me?"

"Certainly." Qui-Gon perched himself on the arm of the chair next to Obi-Wan once more.

Rolling up the sheet, Loos tapped his lips with it, staring into space. "There are... Well. When you said that Mogrit may be under the influence of someone from your Republic, it did not surprise me overmuch. There is a man, someone that I believe is be an alien, who has often been seen with Mogrit. When questioned on this gentleman, he becomes evasive. I also know there is a ship that has recently come to the dockyards, which remains under heavy guard all the time. It does not appear to be Navistim, and yet by law, no alien craft are to be allowed on-planet."

Qui-Gon exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan. "Do you know the name of this person? A description?" Obi-Wan's voice was bordering on eager, something that Qui-Gon felt himself.

Loos shook his head. "Name? No. He's a man of about your height, Sar Kenobi, with silvered hair. He appears to be fond of the color blue, since that's all I've ever seen him in. He shows up, every now and then, always with Mogrit, who does not introduce him. I've only seen him from afar, and not often at that, but I know he's on Navist now."

"That might be our link." Qui-Gon frowned at Loos.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, then leaned back in the chair. "We need a plan," he said. "We need something to divert Mogrit's attention so that we can get into this compound of his, find Betha and discover who this mysterious man in blue might be." He glanced brightly around the room. "I'm open to suggestions."

"I'd like to break into the port and see that ship," Qui-Gon said. "We might be able to get a name with that."

"It's heavily guarded." Loos looked at them speculatively. "It's at hangar fourteen. I'll drop some unobtrusive feelers out myself, see if I can get a name or at least how often he's visited Navist. Unofficially."

"We're supposed to have a meetup tomorrow," Sheree offered. "Could that help?"

"Only if you decided to march on the Gobenflotch," Loos said, then paused. "Nab a tick..."

"A riot? People demanding answers? Fa, that could work." Sheree was getting excited, but Loos was more cautious.

"Daughter, that was not meant entirely seriously. People could get killed."

"Not if you met with them, not if your intent was to calm them down." Loos and Sheree turned toward Qui-Gon, who continued. "Yes, the security forces would be out, but if _you_ , personally, took it seriously, if you offered to speak to them, meet with them, _and_ they calmed as soon as you did so..." Qui-Gon spread his hands. "It's an excellent diversion."

"It would have to be planned with precision." Obi-Wan's voice was thoughtful. "The mob leaders would have to know exactly what to say, what to do, to avoid any bloodshed. If it were sudden, if the security forces had no foreknowledge of it..." He trailed off, frowning into the distance. "It could work."

"We could all gather and call for a recall vote for Mogrit, or something like that, with signs, and slogans..."

"A vote of no confidence?" Qui-Gon knew his voice was rueful in remembrance, and to his pleasure, Obi-Wan touched his thigh in commiseration. 

"That's only part of it, though." Loos patted Sheree's hand. "You Jedi, you want to break into that hangar and you want to rescue Betha Hale. How do you plan on doing that?"

"To be quite honest, Sar Loos," Qui-Gon said, his mouth twisted wryly, "we're making this up as we go along."

"We're really rather good at that," Obi-Wan added. He smiled brilliantly up at Qui-Gon, whose heart went _thump_ and who smiled, helplessly, back.

* * *

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Once things swung towards chaotic, they only got worse. Crenudo showed up in the afternoon with a carload of people from various walks of life and leading a chain of other cars, equally packed. They were there to 'help' with the meetup and brought with them a formidable array of tools to 'facilitate' that. One of them was an out-of-work lineman who understood how to break into the dataset infolines to mask their origination point, and another was a computer slicer who could break through any defense to find information. Any defense, that is, except Mogrit's. That had been Little Bit's -- Betha's -- purview, and no one knew how she did it.

To Obi-Wan's delight, Sheree's father took all the newcomers in stride, treating Crenudo -- and other pros he brought with him -- with polite, though distant, courtesy. After Hale's display before the Council, it was a refreshing change.

Sheree was kept busy all afternoon on the teleunit and running to and fro, making sure that the gym was available, finding places for people to sleep, trying to keep everything as low key as possible. Just before her father left, a tall, good-looking man arrived and by the way Sheree squealed and embraced him, Obi-Wan figured he had finally seen the elusive fiance, Thom. When Qui-Gon was introduced, Obi-Wan noted the odd combination of relief and surprised happiness on his face, and wondered about the enthusiastic congratulations he bestowed upon the couple. 

He could spare no time to think about that, however, as he had his own problems. 

With night came the curfew imposed by martial law. Theoretically, no unauthorized people were allowed outside after nightfall -- in actuality, that meant that if you were outside, you had to be careful not to be caught by the patrols that were enthusiastic about enforcement. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had to nearly force Crenudo to stay put and not accompany them to the port, since he was convinced he could help them on the mission. It was true, he might have been able to. But unspoken between the Jedi was the thought that they didn't want to put Crenudo into further jeopardy, and if there was a warrant for his arrest, merely driving to the port -- after curfew -- could be dangerous.

The fact that he had managed to avoid the patrols thus far... it was either luck or skill, but either way, they didn't want to test it.

Driving to the port was uneventful. Obi-Wan drove and Qui-Gon sat in partial meditation, using the Force to direct them properly, away from trouble. They secreted their vehicle well away from the port, and then slipped through the darkness and quiet to hangar fourteen, which was indeed well-guarded.

Since they had a working memory of how the hangars were designed, they knew they could get to an upper level and peer down at the uncovered ship in the dock -- it was a matter of getting through one or two of the warehouses that abutted the port. The entire space port of New Jarra was not designed with security in mind, necessarily -- at least getting in. Getting out would have been a bit more dicey. They chose a warehouse that was empty at that hour, and it was the work of a few moments to break in, though keeping tightly together and using that blasted shield box hampered their movements. At least no one seemed to notice them.

When they were, at last, able to see the mysterious ship, it was all Obi-Wan could do from gaping in shock. "Those aren't Navistim guards!" he hissed into Qui-Gon's ear.

"This isn't possible," Qui-Gon murmured, his eyes wide. "It can't be. How did he get here? Why would he be here? Navist's borders are closed!"

It was Obi-Wan who finally found the impetus to move, crowding Qui-Gon back along the catwalk they were using. They didn't speak at all until they were in the vehicle, which they had left tucked into a dark alley. 

"It was him... all along..." Qui-Gon's voice was rough and carried a note of incredulous offense.

"We don't know that." Obi-Wan's headache, which had blossomed from the moment they turned the shield box on, threatened to explode his brain. He closed his eyes. "We don't know why he's here. It could be for an innocuous reason. He's a politician, he could have a perfectly legitimate reason."

"Like what?" Qui-Gon turned in his seat to glare at Obi-Wan. "What _possible_ reason could the Supreme Chancellor have for leaving his post and coming to a planet that isn't even part of the damn Republic?!"

"Shh." Obi-Wan turned and frowned. "Keep your voice down."

"We need to return to the ship." Qui-Gon's tone -- though softened -- allowed no arguments.

"May I remind you -- again! -- I am in charge of this mission, Master Jinn."

"I am altogether too aware of that, Knight Kenobi. I am advising you to make all speed back to the ship so that we may report this to the Council. This revelation is worth breaking radio silence for."

"And if I disagree?" Blast that damn shield box, it was making his head throb in time to his heartbeat.

"That is your prerogative, of course," Qui-Gon replied tightly. "However, as your... as your..."

"My _master_?" Obi-Wan stared out the front of the vehicle, clenching the wheel and his jaw.

"As your _partner_ in this mission." He heard Qui-Gon swallow hard. "Not as your master, nor as your senior in experience. But as someone who believes very strongly in this mission. Obi-Wan... I think your mind has been tampered with."

"That's ridiculous." His grip on the wheel slipped under his suddenly clammy palms.

"You've been working with him since Naboo, haven't you? Even though he may be a trusted member of the Senate, I still find it very odd that he managed to land on his feet like that." Qui-Gon's voice was soft and persuasive, but all Obi-Wan could feel was his headache.

"This is not the place to discuss it," he finally conceded. "We're too exposed here."

"Then let's go to the ship. We can check to see if your mind has been tampered with, and report to the Council -- one way or the other."

"Fine." Starting the vehicle, Obi-Wan carefully negotiated his way out of the alley, heading out of town to where they had secreted their ship. He was adamant with himself... if Qui-Gon thought he was going to use that damned drug again, he had better reverse states, and fast.

They were silent all the way to the ship. Qui-Gon slipped into his semi-trance again and merely pointed out safe routes until they were well outside the city and approaching the ship. The security system was intact, to their relief; no one had approached it in their absence.

Their vehicle hidden, they entered the ship. Qui-Gon went aft while Obi-Wan went to the command room, to double-check that the ship hadn't been tampered with. That made him think about Qui-Gon's statement at the port, and he twisted up his face then took a deep breath, trying to release his anxiety.

He didn't like the idea that he might have been -- well, the word violated came to mind, and though he thought it lurid it was also fairly accurate. No, he didn't like or trust Palpatine, but Palpatine was a politician, and politicians as a group could not be trusted. But he'd always been polite to Obi-Wan, and had asked how Qui-Gon was doing nearly every day...

Obi-Wan froze. He didn't realize he wasn't breathing until spots began to form in front of his eyes. Qui-Gon picked that moment to enter the room, bearing two cups of tea and some nutrient bars. He took one look at Obi-Wan's face and abruptly sat in the co-pilot's chair. "What is it?"

"I don't... I'm not..." He took the proffered cup and drank deeply, burning his tongue. It let him concentrate on something else, which calmed him. "Tell me why you think Palpatine should be under suspicion."

Qui-Gon gave him an intense look, but thankfully didn't ask why. "According to Dorgen Loos, this isn't his first visit to Navist. If we look into his travel history, we may find he was also here when we were here last, since I think he might have been the person who recognized me. I also find it highly questionable that he should be here now, when Navist has closed its borders to all aliens. He has been working with Mogrit, someone whom we know is involved in the attempt to discredit the Jedi. It seems to me that the one person who has the most motivation to ruin the Jedi would be the same one who tried to kill us on Naboo."

"The Sith."

Nodding slowly, Qui-Gon kept his eyes on Obi-Wan as he sipped his tea. "I can't see any reasons why Mogrit would want to discredit the Jedi, unless he was under the control of someone else, who did. We've already discussed the possibilities, Obi-Wan. I think I should use that drug again and--"

"Absolutely not." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and shook his head hard.

"I've suffered no ill-effects so far--"

"And what if we need to do it again? What if we need the information that the drug could bring us?" As soon as he said it, Obi-Wan knew they would use the drug again, and the insight nearly terrified him. "No."

Qui-Gon's face, reflected in the glass of the command room's forward windows, showed no anger this time, only a frowning concentration. "We need to discover if your mind has actually been compromised, Obi-Wan." His voice was gentle, and Obi-Wan could almost wish it was still acerbic. That, he could handle. Gentle was more difficult. "I'm open to other methods."

"Are you?" Obi-Wan swallowed down his trepidation and anxiety. "To be honest, I don't think you're keeping a very open mind here, Qui-Gon -- you seem to want to use the drug at any opportunity and I don't understand it. It is dangerous." After a long moment, when there was silence from the co-pilot's seat, Obi-Wan risked a glance at Qui-Gon. "What?" Qui-Gon was staring at him as if he'd suddenly changed species.

Qui-Gon shook his head, as if trying to clear it. "Nothing... nothing. Something Yoda said, that's all." He turned, as well, to look out the window at blackness. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Actually... perhaps." He swallowed again, his mouth dry. Qui-Gon sat silently next to him and let him have all the time he needed. "I... I can drop my shields. We've been close enough, in the past, with our, you know, our training bond..."

"Are you sure?" Qui-Gon's voice was very soft, and carried a note of care that put a lump in Obi-Wan's throat. 

"Yes." He shoved his panic down and turned to look at Qui-Gon fully. "We should do it now, though, before I lose my nerve."

Qui-Gon nodded mutely, rose, and offered his hand to Obi-Wan. They walked back to the galley and Obi-Wan made himself as comfortable as he could at the tiny table. It took him some time to calm enough to enter into meditation, but finally he achieved the communion with the Force that allowed his private mind to be free. He felt Qui-Gon's beautiful aura across from him, and allowed a gentle, tentative tendril of inquiry past his shields, even as his hands accepted Qui-Gon's touch. 

Once that was there, the rest of his shields fell, and it was suddenly all bared, for Qui-Gon, for him, for the Force to come in and heal the great, gaping rents in his psyche. It was all there -- the anger, the fear, all the negative emotions that allowed the Sith entry into his mind in the first place. Qui-Gon's touch, which was always gentle, was now soothing, calming, and Obi-Wan allowed his mind to twine with his mate's.

They swam up from meditation and realized they both had tears on their faces.

* * *

Before landing, they had put a repeater in a stationary point between the two moons so that they could compress and squirt any important messages. They had hoped not to use it, but now were glad they had it. Both of them facing the holopickup, they bowed.

"Greetings to the Council from Knight Kenobi and Master Jinn." With effort, Obi-Wan forced his voice into normality. "It appears we have discovered the identity of the person influencing the Navistim from the Republic; it is Chancellor Palpatine. He has made so bold as to have arrived on-planet in his private yacht, with Republic guard presence as well." Obi-Wan paused and took a deep breath. "We have reason to believe that he has been on Navist in the past, and ask the Council to investigate into and enumerate his absences from the Senate, so further proof can be obtained, one way or the other. We also have reason to believe that he has tampered with my mind to such extent that it appears credible he is, if not a Sith, then working closely with the Sith.

"We are progressing well on our secondary mission, to find Betha Hale, and should have more information available in twenty-four hours. We will remain in the vehicle and receptive for approximately five more hours, and await your reply."

"A moment, Knight Kenobi," Obi-Wan blinked at Qui-Gon in surprise. "One other thing we request from the Council. Please relay to us whether Allanz Fortier was ever resident in the Temple as an initiate or padawan, and if so, what her status was when she left the Temple. She remains near death, and I have reason to believe she is Force-sensitive."

Initially surprised, when Obi-Wan thought about it, it made perfect sense. He nodded in silent agreement, then raised his eyebrow. At Qui-Gon slight nod, he turned back to the holopickup and bowed once again, aware of Qui-Gon doing the same. "In service to the Jedi," they murmured, then Obi-Wan cut the recording.

It was the work of a few moments to compress the file and squirt it to the relay. Once gone, Obi-Wan sat and closed his eyes, trying to release the emotions tearing through him to the Force. He was aware of Qui-Gon, standing behind him in the door to the control room, a silent sentry to all the pain and heartache that had been in their relationship for the past year, hell, that had _been_ their relationship for the past year. He felt about one inch tall, knowing that he had been so easy for the Sith -- for Palpatine -- to maneuver around, to take over. The emotions no longer even felt like his, they felt like an overlay, a sheet of flimsiplast bonded to a beautiful piece of parchment. All the pain he had been laying at Qui-Gon's feet was false, everything he had done was wrong, and suddenly, it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough, nothing they had done or were doing was enough and he needed... He surged out of the chair and rounded on Qui-Gon, grabbing his tunics and yanking him down for a hard kiss.

Qui-Gon seemed frozen in shock at first, then with an almost inaudible moan, he melted into Obi-Wan's kiss, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan tightly, as if afraid to let go. For his part, Obi-Wan took control of the kiss, pushing Qui-Gon back against the bulkhead and pressing their bodies together as tightly as their mouths. 

With wrenching effort, Obi-Wan yanked himself away and stared up into Qui-Gon's dazed eyes. They were both breathing hard and Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon's heart was hammering, just like his own.

Without taking his eyes off Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan pulled him down the companionway to one of the bunk rooms, the first door he knew led to a bed. A bed that was too narrow, but he didn't give a damn. In short order, they were both naked and Obi-Wan had pushed Qui-Gon down to the bed before sprawling on top of him.

Qui-Gon was making those little gasping moans Obi-Wan remembered, the ones that turned him on so much, the ones that made him want to come in his pants, almost. Their erections slid against one another as Obi-Wan placed sucking kisses in a line down Qui-Gon's neck to his chest, then to his nipples. Everything tasted so good! And everything was heating up too fast, far too fast.

Stilling himself with effort, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck. "Sex... never solved anything," he whispered, aware that any louder volume would come out sounding like a sob.

"No." Qui-Gon was making an effort to control himself as well. Not that either of them could control their bodies from the waist down -- from the waist down, their bodies were still going for it, rubbing and twisting together madly, with passionate familiarity. "No, it never has. But it lets us forget, for a while."

"Do you want to forget, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan couldn't lean up, wasn't able to look Qui-Gon in the eyes.

"You? Never." Obi-Wan heard him dry swallow. "But other things, other words, yes."

So much for not looking up; with his big, warm hands, hands Obi-Wan had always loved, Qui-Gon framed Obi-Wan's face and gently forced him to look up. To Obi-Wan's relief, the only things he saw in Qui-Gon's eyes were love and passion and love, again. "I want to forget it, Qui-Gon. Make me forget it, please?" he asked quietly.

In answer, Qui-Gon kissed him. This kiss was different. There was no madness in this kiss, nothing but gentle passion, a remembrance of things not forgotten. They kissed for what felt like hours, days even, a mating of their lips and their tongues and teeth and it was so good, it opened all the doors and windows of Obi-Wan's tightly shuttered heart and let the good air back in. 

Obi-Wan used his mouth on Qui-Gon everywhere, every part of him, determined to re-taste every square centimeter of the skin beneath his lips. He had forgotten what a bonanza Qui-Gon's skin was -- soft and sweet, callused and sharp with sweat, stretched tightly over muscle and bone. There was so much of it, all of it for Obi-Wan, all of it for his benefit once again, laid out like a feast. And Qui-Gon let him have his due, allowed him, encouraged him to taste and feel again. He panted softly, and his hands restlessly moved from Obi-Wan's skin to his hair and back, petting, caressing even as he was being caressed.

Obi-Wan didn't know how he got the lotion from his tiny 'fresher, but somehow he did. He let his hand, coated with the sweet-smelling lotion, wander along with his mouth around the familiar territory of Qui-Gon's body, stroking the fragile skin of his testicles, reaching further back to breach the opening to his body. Qui-Gon gasped in reaction and lifted his legs, spread himself widely, gave himself gladly over to Obi-Wan's keeping.

Events slowed down to a crawl, it seemed, as Obi-Wan tried to record every moment indelibly in his mind. The tight heat inside Qui-Gon, the way his eyes rolled up and his back arched when Obi-Wan stroked inside, twisting his fingers and finding his pleasure. The smell and taste of Qui-Gon's skin under his mouth, the way his nipples pebbled and turned red when Obi-Wan bit them. The moan, almost of pain, when Obi-Wan removed his fingers to coat his cock with lotion. The way their cries of pleasure harmonized as Obi-Wan pushed himself deeply, so deeply, into Qui-Gon.

The Force sang between them like a benediction. Propping himself on his arms, Obi-Wan looked down as he stroked into his lover, as he sought something... some elusive feeling or emotion which might have been joy but might also have been love -- it hovered just out of reach, tantalizing. Qui-Gon was wholly consumed by their loving, writhing, ecstatically impaled on Obi-Wan's cock, eyes wide and unseeing, caressing Obi-Wan with hands that seemed to have a mind of their own. 

Gasping entreaties brought new urgency to both of them, and Obi-Wan picked up his pace, moving with assurance and power. The lurid glare of the room's lights painted both of them in a sheen that under other circumstances might have been sickly, but here looked warm and vibrant. Suddenly, Qui-Gon's eyes snapped into focus and his mouth opened in surprise. "I love you," he said, his voice strangled, then he arched high and came hard.

Obi-Wan froze, enraptured by the power and beauty of Qui-Gon's climax. He was aware that the muscular squeeze from Qui-Gon's orgasm was pulling his own out of him inevitably, inexorably, but the only thing he could do was whimper, a gasping, sobbing whimper that marked the end of one form of life and the beginning of another. He sagged as his strength gave out, and ended up lying on top of Qui-Gon, in a puddle of sweat and spunk, brain fried and emotions clear and present for the first time in what seemed like forever.

It wasn't forever, it was just a year. But now, he was home.

* * *

  
A persistent beeping drew Qui-Gon finally from the warm, soft haven of sleep, where his lover covered him like a living blanket and the room smelled once again of their love. Obi-Wan was still out, and with a rueful smile, Qui-Gon realized he was far more rested. Gently shifting, Qui-Gon managed to move Obi-Wan to the bed proper with minimum amount of pain -- their sweat and come had sealed them together quite admirably -- then stood, stretching carefully. He snagged his robe and left the room.

The beeping was from the Council, a coded message that he ran through the server. After a moment's debate, he went back to their room and gently shook Obi-Wan. "I hate to wake you, but there's a coded reply from the Council," he said softly. 

Obi-Wan's eyes slowly opened and he gifted Qui-Gon with another of his heart-stopping smiles. "We'd best get it then," he said. To Qui-Gon's surprise and delight, he lifted his head enough to kiss Qui-Gon gently, before sliding to the edge of the bed and standing. 

The decoding had finished by the time they reached the command room. When they pressed 'play', Mace Windu's scowling face filled the holoprojector. 

"The Council's greetings to Knight Kenobi and Master Jinn. Your allegations have been investigated and there is ample evidence that they are indeed well-founded. You are to proceed with all caution, taking into account your last joint mission and its outcome. As for your second query, the Council cannot comment at this time. Please keep us informed of your progress, as the security of your mission permits. In service to the Jedi."

After a moment, Qui-Gon snorted a rueful chuckle. "Isn't that just like the Council?"

Obi-Wan appeared to be less amused. "They believe us. They actually believe Palpatine is a Sith."

"It appears so." Qui-Gon shook his head -- how could they have been so blind?

"I've worked with the man for the past seven or eight months -- since Naboo. Since we got back from Naboo." Obi-Wan leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms before his chest. "All that time... and every day, he used to ask about you. Every fucking day, and I'd get so angry, all over again." His face hardened. "That effing bastard."

Qui-Gon stood and gently gathered Obi-Wan into his arms, pleased and relieved when Obi-Wan allowed himself to be hugged, to be soothed. "The worst part is that we can't just kill him," Qui-Gon said wryly. "We'd be arrested."

Obi-Wan chuffed, somewhere between humor and anger. "I'm still going to find a way." 

"Well, if you need help, you know where I'll be."

"With me?" The quiet, almost plaintive question took Qui-Gon off-guard. He pulled back to look down into Obi-Wan's serious face. "I'm... So much of it wasn't me, wasn't my mind... and I thought it was. I thought... he must have been amplifying it, steering me to it, making me think about it, dwell upon it and not talk to you about it. I never knew. I thought it was mine... how I really felt. But it wasn't. It wasn't. It's like... it feels like I'm... lost. Where's the real me?"

"You're not lost," Qui-Gon assured him. "I know where you are. I always know where you are."

Catching his breath, Obi-Wan's eyes grew wide. "Do you?" They stared at each other, silently. After a moment, Obi-Wan continued. "Come with me," he whispered, "when I leave this place. Come with me."

Almost forgetting how to move in his surprise at Obi-Wan's use of the familiar words, the words Qui-Gon had spoken to Obi-Wan before they remembered who they were, when they had fallen in love -- Qui-Gon finally nodded, overcome. "Oh, yes," he breathed, putting his whole heart into his words. "Always."

"Good." With a tug and a huge, relieved smile, Obi-Wan got them moving back to the bunk. Their moment was over, it was time to return to being Jedi. "We need a bit more sleep, I think. Busy day tomorrow. Or today, as the case may be."

Qui-Gon wanted to talk about that, but was afraid to ruin their fragile peace, so hard-won. His indecision must have shown on his face, for once they were spooned up together on the bed, Obi-Wan patted Qui-Gon's hand. "Out with it."

"I'm that transparent?"

"To me, yes. I know you've got something you need to talk about."

Qui-Gon sighed. "I hate to bring it up, but... Betha. If she's at Mogrit's compound..."

"We'll go in and get her out," Obi-Wan said reasonably.

"Obi-Wan, it won't be that easy. You've read what I saw through Allanz, he's got an _army_ there. We will not be able to just walk in, grab Betha, and leave." He fell silent; he knew Obi-Wan would figure it out, but first he had to go through all the possible scenarios, something Qui-Gon had already done over the past day.

"Oh, Qui-Gon..." 

Ah, there. Obi-Wan had figured it out -- he always was a quick study. "It's the only way, Obi-Wan."

"I have not just re-found you only to lose you again. Isn't there another way?"

"Do you have a better idea?" He was careful to put only sad curiosity in his voice, no demand, no anger.

Under their joined hands, he felt Obi-Wan's diaphragm rise and fall. "There's got to be another way."

"I can't think of one. I wish I could -- I don't relish having to go into that twisted mind."

Obi-Wan was silent for a long time, but his muscles stayed lax, he didn't try to pull away, and Qui-Gon was grateful for that. "We need some sleep. Things will look better in the morning."

Qui-Gon doubted that, but all he did was to kiss the skin under his mouth and pull the thin blanket around them. Setting his internal clock, he drifted off to sleep -- despite the tasks still before them, happy for the first time in a year.

Obi-Wan would come with him.

* * *

Shortly after dawn, they were up and moving. Surprising Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon joined him in the sonic shower stall and gave him a blow job, one that left Obi-Wan gasping and Qui-Gon sated as well. It was so lovely to have the right to touch Obi-Wan again, and Qui-Gon made a solemn vow to himself never to take his lover for granted again. It might have been Palpatine who nurtured the rift, but it was Qui-Gon who started it, he had finally acknowledged.

As they prepared for the trip back to New Jarra, they argued back and forth about tactics to get into Mogrit's compound. Obi-Wan was reluctant to use that drug again, and Qui-Gon could tell it was mostly due to fear. "It's just the second attempt, Obi-Wan," he said reasonably. "Healer Choam said two would be all right."  
  
"She said two was the absolute maximum," Obi-Wan shot back. He was driving their vehicle back into New Jarra, and by this time, they knew where the roadblocks were and managed to avoid them. "I've read the documentation. Even one use is dangerous... which was brought home to us earlier!"

"I was unprepared." 

"That's not an excuse." They drove on in silence. "We don't even know if Mogrit is in town. He could be out at the compound, with that bastard Palpatine. And if he _is_ here in town," Obi-Wan continued, forestalling anything Qui-Gon could say, "he'll be under incredible guard."

"Not as much as he would be at the compound." 

"Then let me do it. There's less danger with only one dose." Obi-Wan's voice held a hint of desperation, and Qui-Gon reached out to take his hand.

"I know the dangers, but I also know what it feels like, and will be ready for it. And Obi-Wan, you can touch Betha. I don't know that she'd allow me to, and I'd hate to hurt her further." He let the silence build between them before dropping his next bomb. "Every day we delay is another day of torment for her. We need to rescue her, Obi-Wan."

"I know, I know -- and that's blackmail." Obi-Wan beat his fist on the wheel in frustration. "I had a feeling this was going to happen, I just knew... Fine. But only if he's in town and only if we get to him on time."

Realizing that Obi-Wan's objections were reflections of a purely worried nature, Qui-Gon wisely subsided until they were pulling up in front of Sheree's apartment building.

* * *

Crenudo met them at the door. "They be gone," he said. "Meetup."

"Why aren't you there, Udo?" Obi-Wan gratefully poured himself a cup of caf while he ate a nutrient bar -- he'd forgotten how much he liked the beverage.

"Ree not be letting me," he groused in reply. "I be getting a want out for me. Safer it be for me at her flop." He looked very rebellious at that, but Obi-Wan merely smiled.

"She cares about you, Udo," he said. "And it is safer for you."

Qui-Gon took a seat at the table, joining them. "Crenudo, do you know the governmental building well?"

Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a sour look. "Qui-Gon..."

"It's just a question, Obi-Wan." Give that man an inch and he'd take a parsec.

"Yah, I be knowing it pretty good. Why?"

"If Mogrit is there today, Obi-Wan and I would like to... meet him. Privately." Qui-Gon was studiously ignoring Obi-Wan, who looked like he desperately wanted to object. "Do you think we could find a way to do that?"

Crenudo smiled. "Yah, I be thinking, I be knowing somebody. Checkit, I be making yells, I be letting you know."

Obi-Wan glared at Qui-Gon, who just spread his hands and smiled. "I'm not happy with this idea, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said quietly. Crenudo had pulled an undoubtedly stolen teleunit out of his pocket and was calling someone.

"Obi-Wan, I'm not happy with it either." Qui-Gon reached out and took his hand. "I just don't think we have any choice in the matter. At least it'll only be the second time, due to your sacrifice."

" _That_ wasn't a sacrifice," Obi-Wan said. Losing Qui-Gon would be a sacrifice.

They spent the rest of the morning in Sheree's apartment as Crenudo took and made calls. Qui-Gon was eating a lot of food, and Obi-Wan knew it was in preparation for using the drug, but he tried to pull his mind from the matter. Hopefully, the Force would provide them with a miracle and Qui-Gon would not have to use it.

Midday, Sheree's teleunit pinged. Obi-Wan picked it up to hear Sheree's excited voice over a background roar. "Turn on the set!" she yelled, then disconnected.

The infoqueues were hopping. The meetup had turned into a march on the Gobenflotch, which was as they had planned. What they had not planned was what happened on the way there: people began joining in. The meetup had maybe fifty people attending, but this mob was well over a thousand -- and was getting larger by the moment. There were signs everywhere and people were chanting. Obi-Wan took a seat before the set, charmed and awed by the vision of people-power. 

They reached the governmental building and began chanting for Mogrit. It didn't sound like a happy chant, either, but apparently no one told Mogrit that. When he appeared on the balcony overlooking the filled square, his face covered in a self-satisfied smirk (the cameraman had an excellent shot of him), the shouts turned menacing and the booing started. He looked startled, then angry, then afraid. Someone screamed 'murderer!' and the crowed ate it up, magnifying it until it was another chant. 

Before Mogrit could make his escape, Dorgen Loos appeared and the crowd -- after a moment -- went wild, applauding and screaming his name. Obi-Wan was certain that it was at least partially at Sheree's instigation, but it still sounded wonderful. Mogrit's face was an interesting study -- for a politician, he certainly hadn't learned how to show an impassive face.

The audio was choppy, but Obi-Wan -- and Qui-Gon, now, who had come to watch -- could tell he was trying to placate the crowd, asking them what they wanted, how he could help them. It ended up being a speech, and a popular one at that, with frequent punctuations for applause and cheering. Mogrit, standing behind Loos, looked increasingly angry, until he just turned and stalked back inside.

Crenudo looked up from his latest teleunit call. "We be going now, you bag? No time."

The security forces seemed to be concentrated on the front of the huge government building -- where the crowds were still gathered -- as they had a quick and easy trip through town with no stops. Behind the main building were parking ramps and satellite offices, normally secure but not impervious to Jedi mind tricks. 

At Crenudo's direction, they pulled down into the lowest part of the parking area, underground. There was an entrance here to the main government building, and someone was standing there, holding the door open, waiting for them. The man was dressed in a one-piece coverall, and gave Crenudo a hug and a complicated-looking handclasp.

They were directed to a closet where other coveralls waited for them, then they were taken up through service hallways and lifts in the back end of the building, where only the janitors and other service people roamed. "Every office got a back door, you bag?" The young man, Crenudo's friend, explained the layout in a whisper. "They all be looking to the service hall. This door, it be Mogrit's office, and that one, his private office." Apparently, the 'service doors' were ignored by the politicians, as there were no security forces in evidence. There were security cameras in evidence everywhere, but the uniforms they wore gave them anonymity, and the one camera covering Mogrit's area was disabled -- in fact, it was hanging in pieces, as if waiting for further service.

There were voices -- loud voices -- coming from Mogrit's main office. Crenudo's friend unlocked the access to the private office, and they slipped inside. Crenudo followed, even though Obi-Wan tried to make him stay in the hall as a lookout, with his friend. His emphatic whispers were met with stony silence, and he finally gave up.

Mogrit's private office was opulent and gaudy, heavy drapes, soft fabric in glaring, mismatched colors, an enormous desk that looked to be more a dust-catcher than a useful piece of furniture. The door leading to his main, public, office was slightly ajar, and both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon slipped across the deep, rich carpeting -- colored blood red -- to listen. 

"You told me you were going to find my daughter and get her back for me! It's been three tens, Mogrit! I want her back now!"

" _You_ told _me_ you'd assure my support in the Gobenflotch! That mob out there wants my blood!"

"I've kept up my end of the bargain, you lying toad, it's not my fault if you're an incompetent on top of an egomaniac!"

Mogrit and... Hale? Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon an incredulous stare, and Qui-Gon just shook his head.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen... please." Sweet force, it was _Palpatine_! "It's obvious that Loos has subverted the crowd somehow, but he won't be an issue for much longer, I can assure you. We've already taken steps to assure that. As for your daughter, Sar Hale, perhaps we need to change our focus. Rather than assuming she's still on Navist, we should look into whether she's been taken off-planet."

"You told me you weren't allowing any ships on or off the planet, Mogrit!" Hale sounded as though he were on the verge of apoplexy.

"And I haven't!" When stressed, apparently, Mogrit's voice rose in pitch. He sounded like a Malastarian fishwife. "But I don't have the forces available to me to cover the entire planet -- forces _you_ assured me your money would get for me!"

"Sar Mogrit. Sar Hale. I think our energies would be better spent trying to find Sar Hale's daughter than screaming at each other. Sar Hale, Sar Mogrit has graciously provided me with an office, one level down. Let us go and plan out another search for your daughter -- perhaps I could bring in some of the Republic guards to conduct a sweep of the entire world."

"I want her back, Palpatine. If you want my generosity to continue, you'd better come up with a good plan. Those damn Jedi wouldn't even try."

"Of course, of course, you know what fools they are." Palpatine's voice was soothing and oily, and Obi-Wan could feel the Force compulsion in it. He reeled back, closing his eyes tightly, trying to prevent himself from leaping through the door and eviscerating the man. Now he understood Hale's personality change in the Council chamber. "Sar Mogrit has work to do, I'm sure, so let's leave him to it while we go shape a plan to recover your precious daughter."

They heard Hale and Palpatine go through the door, and then heard Mogrit muttering to himself angrily. "I'm not taking _any_ calls," he told someone in the main room. "Except from the compound. You put anyone else through and I'll feed you your balls."

Mogrit stalked into his private office and slammed the door behind him. 

"Hello, Mogrit," Qui-Gon said softly. Mogrit turned, shocked, to Qui-Gon as Obi-Wan brought the butt of his lightsaber down on the man's head, stunning him and making him drop like a sack of tubers. "I'm leaving the box on," Qui-Gon said as Obi-Wan took Mogrit's arms, dragging him to a huge sofa.

"Good idea." They heaved Mogrit on the couch and stretched him out. "I still don't like this."

"Neither do I." Qui-Gon sat on the sofa next to Mogrit and pulled the loaded hypospray out and offered it to Obi-Wan. "I'm going with a full dose."

"Half." Obi-Wan crossed his arms and glared at Qui-Gon. "Half."

"This isn't Allanz, Obi-Wan, he's not brain damaged -- well, not in that way. I need to be able to control him, with no possibility of error."

"Half."

Qui-Gon sighed. "Three-quarters."

Clenching his jaw until it creaked, Obi-Wan finally conceded. "All right. No more than that."

"Fine." He handed over the hypospray, and before Obi-Wan could do anything else, he took Obi-Wan's hand and kissed it. "I won't leave you, I promise."

"Stubborn damn-fool of an idiot... you'd better not." With iron will, Obi-Wan controlled the shaking in his hands enough to set the dose and press it against Qui-Gon's neck. "Good luck."

Qui-Gon smiled sweetly, took Mogrit's hand and closed his eyes. "Wake him up," he murmured.

Obi-Wan broke the wakeup capsule they'd brought under Mogrit's nose until the man began to come around, moaning. "What..."

Abruptly, he stopped speaking, his eyes rolled up into his head and he went rigid. Qui-Gon took a deep breath, then he too went still and rigid, unmoving, almost not breathing. Clenching his hands into fists to prevent reaching out, Obi-Wan stepped back, next to Crenudo but still within the effective radius of the shield, and watched, impotently.

* * *

It was different, vastly different than being in Allanz's broken mind.

There was a semblance of order here, an overlay that felt/looked like a stack of filing cabinets in a huge array, each one bare of label but partially open, overflowing. He tried to go beyond the array, to open a drawer to see the data hiding in the cabinets, but found resistance. The drawers wouldn't open for him, the array wouldn't break, though it wavered every time he tried.

He paused, aware that time was flying, that he only had so much of it to spend. After a moment's thought, he looked down at 'himself' -- the way he saw himself in his mind -- and realized he was in regulation tunics and boots, complete down to his 'saber. 

With deliberate thought, he pulled his 'saber out and ignited it, the green blade humming with familiar deadliness. Drawing back, he used it to slash at the array of cabinets. They parted like tissue before his onslaught, and he heard a shriek of pain. 

There it was, all the information he needed -- the layout of the compound, the number of people there, his grandiose plans for world and even galactic domination, the location of the bomb placed in the government building, how Palpatine had planned to use the Navistim telepaths and how Mogrit planned to use Palpatine, the physical location of the building where Betha was being held, his fear and hatred of Palpatine and Loos, his terror of the Jedi, especially of Qui-Gon Jinn. 

The location of the bomb?

Qui-Gon strode through Mogrit's mind, seeking, cataloging, arranging things to his liking rather than to Mogrit's. Palpatine's influence was everywhere. From the way he had set things up with Mogrit, he was counting on the man becoming the leader of Navist, so that Palpatine would have a never-ending supply of telepaths with which to discredit the Jedi. It was a rather simple, though stunning, plan, and it made Qui-Gon wonder what else Palpatine might be up to, who else he had influenced.

Far back, in an abandoned nook -- a basement room or an attic corner -- of Mogrit's mind, he found a fleshy lump, an adult-sized baby with Mogrit's face, cowering back away from him. Qui-Gon knelt down before the thing, shaking his head in sadness at the man's self-image. "You are going to do something for me, Anthen Mogrit. And then you're going to sleep, and won't wake up until I tell you."

The man-baby nodded, blubbering and trembling. "Stand up, now. You need to walk to your teleunit, and make a call."

Qui-Gon was only peripherally aware of the outside, aware that Obi-Wan was helping him maintain contact as he and Mogrit stood and wobbled over to the teleunit. Mogrit's voice echoed in the messy chaos of his mind. "It's me. There are going to be two people arriving in the next hour; they're to take the Hale brat. Just do it. It's getting too dangerous to have her on-planet, they're going to take her off. I don't care, you don't need to do anything. They'll tell you if they need anything."

"That's very good, Anthen," Qui-Gon crooned. "Now, walk back to the sofa, and lie down. You're very tired, aren't you?"

"Yes..." Mogrit's internal voice was high-pitched and weak, and there was a figure -- a tall, skinny figure in black -- that kept trying to intrude into the dream-scape. Mogrit was obviously terrified of it.

"Would you like me to get rid of that?" When Mogrit nodded and cringed away again, Qui-Gon used his 'saber to illuminate the shadow and saw a teenage boy with a cruel face. He was stroking himself and eyeing Mogrit, who continued to whimper. Qui-Gon shook his head in sadness and disgust, unwilling to spare sympathy for Mogrit's tortured past, then used his 'saber to slice through the shadow, dissipating it. "It's gone now, but if you don't want it to come back, you need to sleep for at least four hours. Do you understand?"

The representation of Mogrit nodded and put its thumb in its mouth, then sat down right where it was. "That's good, Anthen. Go to sleep now."

Mogrit's mind became fuzzy, less distinct, as he slipped into sleep. It was tempting for Qui-Gon to follow him, the siren call of sleep was difficult to resist. Then suddenly, he was pulled out of Mogrit's mind and into Obi-Wan's embrace. He took a deep breath and kissed that dear face. "Come out now, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said softly, kissing him back.

"Yes..." Another deep breath and he began to feel his own body, damp with sweat and aching. His mind -- his whole head, including his hair -- hurt. "Yes..." With difficulty, he managed to open his eyes only to fall into the beautiful eyes of his lover, Obi-Wan. "Yes." He shook himself all over, like a canine after a swim, and cleared his throat. "I'm here." He didn't comment on how much more difficult it was to shake off the drug's effects. No need to worry Obi-Wan.

"Good." Abruptly he was wrapped in a tight embrace. "Mogrit made the call, we need to find a flit and get out there. Crenudo has already gone to secure one from Sar Loos."

"All right." Qui-Gon took another deep breath. "Did you bring--"

Cutting him off, Obi-Wan handed him a nutrient bar. "I've got ten of them. Don't eat them all at once."

* * *

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Crenudo returned within a few moments while Qui-Gon tried to keep from wolfing down the nutrient bars. He didn't know why the drug made him ravenous, but at the moment, he couldn't find time to care. When Crenudo entered the room to tell them that he had a flyer, Qui-Gon stopped everyone in the room, including Crenudo's friend. 

"There's a bomb," he said, quietly, in deference to whoever may be in the outer office. Everyone turned to him in shock. "Mogrit apparently decided that if the government house was destroyed with everyone in it -- everyone but him -- that would be the easiest way for him to take control of the Gobenflotch. Or maybe it was Palpatine's idea." He described the location to Crenudo's friend, whose eyes narrowed as he nodded comprehension. "Do you know that man who was in here earlier? He's an off-worlder, about Obi-Wan's height with silvered hair, he usually wears blue?" The man nodded. "He's the one that provided the bomb, so it's not Navistim technology. Don't try to defuse it, just take it somewhere safe, where it doesn't matter if it goes off or not."

Crenudo whispered something to his friend while Qui-Gon ripped into another bar. "We be covering that, Jinn," Crenudo said. His friend slipped out the service door, and the three of them soon followed.

The flyer Loos provided them was on a rooftop pad, a small, six-person craft with vertical takeoff and landing capability. Crenudo grinned and hopped into the pilot's seat, but Obi-Wan grabbed his arm. "Udo! You don't need to come, it's too dangerous."

"Cut that shit, I be going. You be not knowing how to fly this, I do, you bag? And Little Bit, I be needing to help her." 

Crenudo narrowed his eyes and set his jaw stubbornly, and Qui-Gon saw trouble ahead. He could tell Obi-Wan was close to using a Force compulsion on Crenudo, so he reached out and touched Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Don't. It'll be all right, and he's right, we don't know how to fly this thing."

Sighing, Obi-Wan gave both of them sour looks before wordlessly climbing into the vehicle.

Crenudo did indeed know how to fly it, and using directions Qui-Gon provided him, they were at the compound in less than an hour. They were hailed before they landed, and Qui-Gon spoke over the radio, giving the proper passwords he had lifted from Mogrit's mind. 

They landed and Obi-Wan told Crenudo in no uncertain terms to stay with the vehicle. While Crenudo looked like he wanted to argue, this time, he gave way. Qui-Gon climbed out with Obi-Wan, and they met a heavily armed, sullen man who glared at them, then waved them on. 

They couldn't have brought the shield with them, even if they hadn't left it with Crenudo. They were certain there were telepaths around, so they made an effort to keep their minds on being bored, doing Mogrit's bidding, and remembering a particularly obnoxious jingle. In the flyer, Obi-Wan had simply stared at Qui-Gon when he suggested thinking about sex.

The compound was not extensive, but the amount of manpower inhabiting it was formidable. They were led directly to a building near the pad where they had landed, inside it, and down stairs. Finally, a door deep in the building opened to a dim room which contained a bed, a commode, and a sink. On the bed, on top of soiled sheets, there huddled a twisted figure.

"Ah shit, she done pissed herself again." The man who led them wrinkled his nose. "She be your problem now, gobbers. You take it."

Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan. "Go get her, we need to get back."

Obi-Wan turned a disgusted face to Qui-Gon. "You be taking her, she stink."

"You take her now, or Mogrit be dealing with you later." Qui-Gon could tell that Obi-Wan was masking his fury behind disgust, and fed it as best he could.

"You got a clean sheet, at least?" Obi-Wan demanded of the man, who nodded and led them into the room. There was a shelf next to the door with clean sheets and clothing.

"Here. Get her outta here. More trouble than she worth." 

When the man turned around, Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan tenderly spread the sheet over Betha and gently lift her. Drawing attention away from them, Qui-Gon shook his head. "Can't get good help anywheres now."

"Yah, I be knowing that." 

They worked their way out of the building, Obi-Wan staying a few paces behind while Qui-Gon engaged the guard in talk, keeping his mind off everything else. It was a heart-stopping trek back to the flyer, but they weren't stopped, and once Obi-Wan climbed in, Qui-Gon waved in the direction of the guard.

"Get us out of here, Udo," Obi-Wan growled. Qui-Gon reached around him and fastened his safety harness, since Obi-Wan had Betha cradled against his neck.

"Whassat smell?" Crenudo got them off the ground and speeding back to New Jarra before Qui-Gon could even blink.

"It's Betha. She voided in her clothing, and they wouldn't change her." All the disgust and rage that Qui-Gon had kept locked up inside came out in his voice.

Crenudo's head jerked around, and the flyer dipped sharply. "Just fly, Udo. Get us back." Obi-Wan carefully peeled the sheet back from Betha's twisted face and kissed her forehead, gently. "Betha? Sweeting, it's Ben. Can you hear me, Betha?"

There was no response from Betha, but she was alive, and they had to take heart in that.

* * *

Holding Betha's stunted, twisted body in his arms was perhaps one of the saddest, most frightening things in Obi-Wan's life. The only other time he had felt like that was when he thought Qui-Gon was dying in his arms on Naboo. He rocked her gently, cradling her head against his neck and rubbing her back, hoping that his aura would soothe her.

Shortly before they landed, he felt her rigid muscles relax a bit, and he crooned encouragement. "It's all right, you're safe now, it's Ben. Can you hear me, beautiful? Please, Betha, tell me you can hear me."

A sound, a whine of pain... "...en?" Her eyes were still closed, and most of her muscles still tense, but Obi-Wan could tell she was there, she was aware.

"Yes, Sweeting, it's me. It's Ben. We've got you now, you're safe." Obi-Wan felt like crying, he was so relieved.

At her best, Betha couldn't speak well, her face and jaw were just too twisted. But her hands could move normally, and one hand now crept up Obi-Wan's chest to his face. "...en? Oooshee... ennn?"

He knew who Betha was calling for -- Fooshie, her pet name for Allanz, and Obi-Wan hugged her tightly. "We're on our way back, Betha. We'll be home soon, and everything will be all right. I promise." One way or another, he added in his head.

When they landed on top of the Gobenfloch government building, they were met by Sheree, her father and some men who were obviously security guards, and just as obviously working for Loos. Obi-Wan wouldn't let anyone else touch Betha, though he allowed Qui-Gon to help him down.

He let Qui-Gon explain things to everyone gathered, since as soon as Obi-Wan climbed out of the flyer Betha went tense again. "I need to get our Betha inside, and in some clean clothing," Obi-Wan said. Crenudo stayed close to him, directing people away from Betha.

"Of course, of course." Loos led them to the door and from there, into a lift. "We need to take her to my private office." He pushed a button and the lift descended. "We can get her settled and cleaned up there, in private. There's someone who's just arrived that all of you need to see," he added. "I wasn't sure if you would..."

The lift stopped and the doors opened as Loos was speaking. Before they could exit, though, they had to get past someone who was waiting at the doors, and who now gaped at them. " **YOU**!" Emmit Hale roared, seeing the Jedi.

To Obi-Wan's surprise, the sound of her father's voice only made Betha cringe into him more. "Is that her? Is that my daughter?! Give her to me!"

Crenudo was at Obi-Wan's elbow. "Be giving me Little Bit," he murmured, and to Obi-Wan's surprise, Betha leaned toward him. 

"Ooo-oh?"

"Yah, baby, it be me," Crenudo said. "Be getting rid of that itty pecker," he growled to Obi-Wan, pushing Obi-Wan out front with his shoulder.

"Palpatine! Get your ass back here! Give me my daughter!" Hale alternated between yelling for the Chancellor -- who did not appear -- and screaming at the Jedi, who bore down on him, implacably, pushing him back and away from Betha and Loos.

"I would advise you to caution, Sar Hale," Qui-Gon said, his voice icier than Obi-Wan had ever heard it. "You have been seen in collusion with someone who is going to be coming under quite severe charges back on Coruscant. I doubt your credit will be enough to get you out of that penalty."

"I demand you give me my daughter!" By this time, they had reached Loos' offices. He opened the door and guided Crenudo and his burden. Hale continued to rant, almost frothing in his anger. "I'll have your asses for this, Jedi! Give me my daughter!"

"I don't think so, Father."

Obi-Wan's head whipped around in surprise. "Branny?"

"Hi, Ben. I'm sorry I didn't return your calls... I've been kind of busy. Thank you, thank you both for rescuing my twin -- you did better than I." Branny Hale, the other daughter of Emmit Hale, stood in the doorway of Loos' office. She turned from smiling at the Jedi to glaring at her father. If looks could kill, there would have been an empty hole where Emmit Hale was standing. "Get out."

"What?! You can't order me--"

"Yes, I can. And I am. I did a little checking of my own, Father, after you allowed Betha to be kidnapped."

"I did no such--"

"You are the biggest fool in the galaxy, Emmit Hale, and I would pity you if I didn't hate you so much right now." Branny stepped forward, and both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon flanked her, protecting her, fascinated and astonished at the exchange. "You've been so damn blind! Mogrit kidnapped her, you idiot. He took her because he wanted to control you and he wanted what you've had all along -- us. He didn't realize that Betha isn't any good to anyone without me or Allanz with her." She glanced at the Jedi to either side of her. "I hope you killed him, but if you haven't, I think I can claim that right." She turned back to her father. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

"I am Betha's legal guardian and--"

"No, you're not, not any longer. That was changed as soon as I figured out what happened, how willfully stupid you've been. Why, Fa? How could you throw yourself in with someone like Mogrit?"

Hale floundered, looking like a fish out of water. Obi-Wan reached out and touched Branny's shoulder. "I'm not positive, but I don't think he knew exactly what was happening, Branny."

"What?" She looked over at Qui-Gon, who nodded slowly. "I think you can give him the benefit of the doubt for now, Ser Hale," Qui-Gon said. "Though even if he has been influenced, by either Palpatine, Mogrit or both, he has a lot to answer for."

"Branny?" Hale looked pale, as if he might pass out. "I left you on Coruscant... I didn't even want you to know... didn't want to worry you... I... don't..."

Sar Loos broke the tableau. "I think it would be a good idea for all of us if you were to wait somewhere else, Sar Hale. I can have a car with a driver take you to your hotel if you'd like." Loos voice was cold and inflexible and Obi-Wan sent a silent prayer to the Force, thanking it for making Loos telepathic. At his signal, one of the security escorts touched Hale's arm and led him away.

Branny watched her father go with grief etched on her face. "How could he have done this to us?"

"I'm not sure it was his choice, Branny. Let's go inside, we're just attracting attention in the hallway." Obi-Wan gestured for Branny to precede him and they all went into Loos' office. Crenudo was still holding Betha -- they were sitting on a large couch, and Branny sat next to them. "You must be Crenudo," she said, smiling wearily. "Betha's talked about you a lot."

Obi-Wan was charmed to see his friend -- someone he thought was utterly shameless -- blush and duck his head. "Little Bit and me, we be good friends. She be best jingo nethack in business."

Betha, who was still curled up in Crenudo's lap, reached a hand out and Branny took it. "You stink, twin!" Branny's voice was gentle as she teased her sister. "I've got some clothes here, you want me to fix you up?"

"Aaaa..." 

"There's a washroom in the back here, Ser Hale, another very comfortable sofa as well," Dorgen Loos said, opening an inner door. "If you need anything, please ask."

"Thank you, Sar Loos. Be right back." Branny gently took Betha from Crenudo's arms and carried her back into Loos' inner sanctum. 

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had stopped just inside the door. Turning, Obi-Wan buried his head in Qui-Gon's neck, grateful to feel warm arms enfold him. "What... just happened here?" Sheree asked, her voice plaintive.

"I'm not sure," Qui-Gon replied with a sigh. "I think we should wait until Branny Hale returns."

"I be waiting for Little Bit," Crenudo said, settling deeper into his seat.

"Let me get you all something," Loos said. "Drinks? Food?"

"Actually..." Qui-Gon began, and Obi-Wan began to laugh, helplessly.

* * *

Two sandwiches and an open bottle of white wine later, Branny Hale returned. "She's asleep, I can't leave her alone for long, but..."

Crenudo stood. "I be sitting with her," he said. 

"Are you sure? I mean..." Branny looked both flustered and pleased at the offer.

Waving her off, Crenudo went into the back room. "I be watching out for her now."

Branny watched him go with a smile. "Something tells me that I'm going to have to get used to him being around." She took the seat Crenudo vacated with a sigh. "I guess I owe all of you some explanations, don't I?"

"I doubt we can expire from curiosity, but I wouldn't want to test it." Branny laughed at Qui-Gon's droll tone and words. "We haven't formally met yet, Ser Hale. I'm Qui-Gon Jinn."

She took his hand and smiled at him. "I know you by reputation, Master Jinn. Thank you, again, for rescuing my twin."

"She really is your twin?" Dorgen Loos said, handing Branny a glass. Branny was tall and lean, with a body that looked like a dancer's. Her thick brown hair and unusual brown-golden eyes were precisely like those of her sister, however. The resemblance was there, but one had to look for it.

"Thank you, Sar Loos -- for the drink and for helping me get my ship on-planet. Yes, she is. Our mother was Navistim, but she died soon after we were born." Branny drank deeply and relaxed further. Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan back into his arms and they leaned against the wall next to the door again, taking their station. "As you can tell, Betha got all the good looks in the family." That made everyone chuckle. "Our mother gave us something else as well, I'm afraid."

With sudden insight, Obi-Wan said, "Telepathy. You're telepathic. That's why Betha can't stand to be touched..."

"Yes." Branny looked pained. "But that's not all. I'm telepathic -- it's very weak, but it's there. Betha has twice my ability, and more. You see, she's Force-sensitive as well."

Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan froze. After a moment, Qui-Gon choked out, "I... was led to believe that..."

"That they're mutually exclusive? They are, at least, we suspect so. I spent some time with the healers in the Temple before I came out here, and they thought the same. But there's always an exception to the rule, isn't there? Betha is it." 

"That explains so much..." Obi-Wan said, bemused.

"More than you'd think, Ben. We've been working for Hale Enterprises -- well, for our father -- for almost fifteen years now. Betha does one end of it and I do the other -- Fa has been grooming me to take over when he... when he passes... at least, I suspect so. He's not telepathic, but has excellent natural shielding against it." 

Branny's eyes hardened and her mouth turned down, and suddenly, Obi-Wan could see Betha in her sister. "I didn't even know that Betha had been kidnapped. I found out when Chancellor Palpatine called Fa and got me -- he gave me his condolences for the disappearance of my sister." Obi-Wan inhaled sharply. "I've never liked him, and I never knew why." Branny turned her sad eyes on the Jedi. "You said, out in the hallway, he'd been influenced by Palpatine. What did you mean?"

"We have reason to believe," Obi-Wan said slowly, "that Palpatine is not who he seems to be." 

Qui-Gon's arms around Obi-Wan tightened. "We regret that we cannot tell you more, but I would say he was quite possibly trying to coerce you to come to him."

"Then he would have taken me as he did my sister." Branny took a shaky breath and gulped her wine. 

"We have no evidence that he actually kidnapped your sister, Branny," Obi-Wan said. "However, Mogrit seems to be under his control, and we're quite certain -- as you are -- that Mogrit was the one behind the kidnapping."

"I understand."

"I don't!" Sheree, who had been standing with her father, crossed the room to sit beside Branny. "Why can't Betha touch people? What does 'the Force' mean? I don't understand."

"Touching a telepath increases the amount 'read'," Loos explained to his daughter. "I can understand poor Betha so much better now -- I imagine the combination of Force power and telepathy almost crippled her at times."

"The Force is what helps the Jedi work, Ree." Qui-Gon explained. "We are not natural telepaths, though the Force can help us to 'listen' or 'feel' the most prominent thoughts of those around us. It's actually more like feelings, like empathy, than it is telepathy. A telepath's gifts run in a completely different direction. Combining telepathy with Force-sensitivity..." Qui-Gon trailed off and he stiffened behind Obi-Wan. "The Chosen One," he murmured, then 'ooofed' when Obi-Wan dug his elbow into Qui-Gon's ribs.

"Don't you dare," Obi-Wan muttered. "Betha has work to do here. She doesn't need any added complications, especially not after the trauma she's just endured."

"I agree." The expression on Branny's face was bleak, for all she probably didn't know what Obi-Wan was talking about. "It hurts, because she can sense so much pain, so much evil from people. To be honest, I'm surprised -- gratified, but surprised -- she's still sane. And it further explains why Fa has been physically absent from her for so long. He must have thought she'd find out about Palpatine, or something like that."

Obi-Wan nodded sadly. "Possibly. The one thing I regret is that we couldn't save Allanz. She's at the hospital..."

"I know." Branny looked down, closing her eyes in pain. "She's gone, now. I had them turn off the machines and release her."

Obi-Wan took a deep, deep breath. Qui-Gon's arms tightened around him. "We'd like to stay for the memorial service, whenever that will be."

"Of course." She gave them a sorrowful look. "She was Force-sensitive as well, you know. It was your Council that authorized me to remove life-support. She had been trained but was never taken as a padawan."

Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat, Obi-Wan realized that could have been his story, as well. He burrowed back further against Qui-Gon.

"Then why is Crenudo all right for her, for Betha, to touch?" Sheree asked, apparently determined to get the answers to her questions.

"I'm not sure, but I imagine it's because with Crenudo, everything's in the open."

Obi-Wan had to smile at Branny's words. "That's true. There's no evil in Udo, you know that Ree. Everything is on the surface, plain as the day, his loyalties are straight-forward and honest. I imagine that's a rather refreshing change for Betha."

Branny sighed and stood. "I need to go check on her. Could I ask the two of you to help me increase the security at the estate? I don't want this happening again."

Obi-Wan glanced at Qui-Gon, and smiled. "We'd be delighted."

"Good. Thank you." Then she narrowed her eyes, staring at nothing. "I have a score to settle, too, don't I?"

"You and I both, dear lady," Dorgen Loos rumbled. "You and I both. Since the person we need to deal with is presently under house arrest, it shouldn't be too difficult."

Branny smiled at Loos, and it wasn't a nice smile. "Shall we draw for the right to go first?"

"I've always been taught to let ladies precede me," Loos replied. "Though I would ask that you at least leave something for me to do."

There was a long, dumbfounded silence in the room, while Branny Hale and Dorgen Loos smiled at each other. Finally, Obi-Wan turned and looked up at Qui-Gon. "Remind me to never get on the wrong side of her. Or him either."

"That will be easy, since I plan the same."

Branny smiled brilliantly at them. "You two couldn't get on my wrong side. You saved Betha. You could turn into mass murderers and I'd probably pay for your defense. I cannot thank you enough."

* * *

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

So much had happened.

Allanz's memorial service was attended by an astounding number of people who knew and cared for her. The Hale sisters -- Crenudo pushing Betha's wheelchair -- were prominent as family. The security of the estate had been increased to make it almost impenetrable. Crenudo was living there full-time now, and he and Betha argued constantly, sounding so much like an old married couple it gave Obi-Wan hysterics.

Branny and her father, Emmit Hale, spent a lot of time with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon before the Jedi left the planet. Hale's aura was indeed compromised, severely, and Betha, it turned out, couldn't stand to be near him. He took the advice of his family and the Jedi, and left for the Temple and the mind-healers there.

Dorgen Loos was nominated for and won the title of Speaker of the Gobenflotch. He immediately began the negotiations that would, in time, bring Navist into the Republic -- something the Jedi both welcomed and dreaded. Mogrit, stripped of his power, his cockiness and any bargaining tools, tucked his tail between his legs and meekly accepted his punishment. Along with charges of kidnapping, coercion, and violation of his own anti-alien laws, the planetary government was in the process of bringing tax evasion charges against him. He was effectively neutralized, and would be doing no one any harm at all, especially given that he would be in prison for several decades. Neither Jedi could find any sympathy for him.

No one could find Palpatine. From the records, it appeared that his ship had taken off about the same time Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had returned with Betha. The day before they lifted for home, the Council forwarded a tight-beam item from a newsfeed. It seemed that the Supreme Chancellor, on his way home from a fact-finding mission in the Brealis sector, had died when his private yacht mysteriously exploded, two days from Coruscant. 

"So that's what happened to the bomb." Obi-Wan's voice held nothing but wry interest, but Qui-Gon knew he was gloating inside.

"Waste not, want not," Qui-Gon replied. "The Navistim are very frugal. They'll make an excellent addition to the Republic -- assuming we can handle a planet full of telepaths."

They were ready to go, and the Council had already informed them there was another joint mission waiting for them. While Obi-Wan didn't say anything, his happiness at the thought radiated from him, and Qui-Gon merely basked in the glow. As they were doing pre-flight, after many tearful and heartfelt goodbyes and promises to return, Qui-Gon glanced at him. "My apartment, I believe, is larger than yours is." Keeping his voice neutral took enormous effort.

"Pays to be a master, I assume," Obi-Wan replied. His focus was on the panel before him, but his lips were turned up in a grin.

"I thought that, perhaps, you might like to move in with me."

"Why, Master Jinn." Turning to face him fully, Obi-Wan's eyes were full of mischief and something else that Qui-Gon thought might be love. "Are you asking me to be your padawan?"

"No, actually," Qui-Gon replied. "You're a bit too old to be trained now. The habits of your previous master would be far too ingrained."

Obi-Wan stood, twisted the copilot's chair away from the console panels and straddled Qui-Gon's lap. "I imagine that's correct. He was a good master, though, you know. He taught me many things."

"Oh, did he?" Qui-Gon rested his hands on Obi-Wan's hips.

"Yes, he did. He taught me how to live in the moment, when to run away and when to fight, and how perfect gifts for padawans are rocks. He also taught me how to love, unconditionally."

Qui-Gon smiled helplessly up at Obi-Wan. "He sounds like he was a fairly good teacher."

"The best." Dipping his head, Obi-Wan let his lips brush over Qui-Gon's. 

"In that case, I think I'd have to ask you to move in to my quarters -- not as a padawan, but as my lover." He closed his eyes briefly, the better to enjoy the sweet, light kisses Obi-Wan was granting him. "If that's all right with you."

"I think that's quite acceptable, Master Jinn." Obi-Wan's smile was reflected in his soft agreement.

"Good." Lifting his hands, Qui-Gon ran his palms delicately over Obi-Wan's face, letting his fingers drift back to tangle in lengthening, copper-colored hair. "Come with me," he whispered. "When I leave this place. Come with me."

Warm, loving eyes smiled down at him. "Yes."

end


End file.
